More

Onto the next section of the story, not quite sure how far we were into the chemo, like 3 or 4 treatments, it was still cold out but sunny.  Anyway, Mary who always took me to all of my treatments dropped me off at my house to rest while the boys were still at school and Jim was at work and right after she got me inside, because I was always a little groggy there was a knock at the door.

I went to the front door and opened it to find a local town's police force which consisted of two officers.  Not quite sure who it was at the time, don't really remember much from back then and I would never put their names in here anyway.  It wasn't the town I was living in but one close by.  The larger of the two men asked me where my soon to be ex husband was.  I told him I wasn't sure but it was Thursday so he should be at work or on his way home.  That same officer told me that he was there to arrest me because the weekend before there had been someone who came out of the local pub riding a 4-wheeler thru his town" tearing things up".  They chased this "drunk" for quite some time and were never able to catch him so they ran the plates and found that the quad was registered to me.  This officer knew just from looking at me that I was not the person they were looking for and asked me if the quad had been stolen, I told them the truth, (which thinking back I wonder if things would have worked out a little differently if I had lied).  And I told them where they could find the 4-wheeler and my estranged husband, at my previous residence.

By the time they left, I was in tears and they were not nearly as sweet as I had just made them sound.  You see, they made sure to get that one last threat in before they left about harboring a fugitive.  I was a mess.  I still had yet to sit down after getting back from my chemo treatment.  It was obvious to anyone who would have seen me, how sick I was, I mean for God's sake I was standing there bald and pale, and about half doped up from Ativan.  What the hell kind of police officers treat people like that?  They knew it wasn't me.  I won't knock policemen in here, I have a great deal of respect for them, but these two men went above and beyond to scare me.  I knew nothing about the weekend before, we had split up long before that and to be honest, had my ex been sober, he probably would have stopped.  But at the time he was in a lot of trouble already from drinking and driving and could not afford to get caught again.

Anyway, I called Gerald, my uncle , and told him what just happened.  He came directly to the house with Mary and they made some calls to that town's mayor.  I was apologized to and they found the house and the 4-wheeler and my ex.  It was amazing how they treated him though, it all came down to some fines for him.  He's very charming when he wants to be.  Let's just say his luck is just the opposite of mine.  They were ready to throw me in jail to get to him but when they got to him they let everything pretty much slide.

That day sticks out in my memory.  I had not let my mother ever take me to chemo.  It was something I thought would be over after 6 times and I would never have to do again.  So, I thought I had been through some really bad shit and she should not have to watch.  She was my mother and no mother should have to watch her child go through chemotherapy.  The first time I ever had a chemo treatment, the one drug was called Adriamyacin.  The red rose some people called it.  This drug was a beautiful shade of red, but when administered it is called an IV push.  So, the nurse sits with you and literally pushes this drug from a suringe into your veins.  You realize that they are literally poisoning you.  That is what chemo is, poison.  And you have to take it because it may be the only way to save your life.  For those who don't understand it, chemo is a poison to your body.  They, the doctors and nurses have to administer this poison to try and kill off the cancer cells, the problem with chemo presently is that when they kill the cancer cells they also kill the normal cells that make your hair grow, make your nails grow, and things of that sort.  This is why people who are on certain regiments of chemo lose their hair and our fingernails turn nasty and our teeth get bad.  We lose our eye lashes and eye brows, and we never have to shave our legs or underarms.  Our blood counts drop and we have to take shots to bring them back up so that we can get the next regiment of chemo and we must stay away from people who are carrying a cold or have a virus or flu.  We don't have much of an immune system to fight off any type of stuffy nose or what not.  My children have to be very attentive about washing their hands after doing anything and they have to protect themselves from viruses or bugs that they can possibly bring home to me. 

Chemo patients get tired, physically drained from doing nothing.  Literally nothing.  If and when our counts are down, we are exhausted.  All we want to do is rest.  After a treatment that really disagrees with me, if I am not puking I wish I was.  Sometimes, not to be gross but it comes from both ends.  Then you become dehydrated.  Dehydration is not fun either.  If that gets severe you can end up hospitalized.  Your whole body hurts.  You want to cry, you want to scream "why me", but you can't.  And here is why....it could be your child.  What could be worse than watching your child go through something so horrible and not be able to take it away from them?  The only thing worse than being me, and I have said this many times, would be being my mother.  Any time I start feeling sorry for myself, I think of the shows that come on tv that raise money to support the children at St. Jude.  There is nothing worse than seeing a bald little girl who is suffering from cancer.  I will take it.  I will bare the cross, rather than watch one of my sons or my daughter bare that cross.  And I will also fight, as long as there is something to fight with, I will fight.  I owe that to my kids.

There is so much, phychologically that a cancer patient goes through, then they add the medication, then you add the family drama.  Some days it's easier to not think about ANY of it. 

You do learn some little tricks to help with some of the chemo side effects.  For instance, if you stop at Sheetz and pick up a frozen drink and suck on it while the infusion takes place, you do not get the blisters in your mouth and throat.  Emend before the treatment helps the sick stomache for the first three days.  Always keep immodium with you, you can be anywhere when the runs hit and it's usually gonna get you right after you eat out somewhere.  Certain smells are really bad.  Stay away from cigarette smoke, perfume counters and greasy food.  Coffee, even if you love it, can make you really sick, just from the smell. 

Chemo for me is hard, most of the time.  There are times however, whenit's just fine and doesn't make me sick.  

more later

Surprise

Tonight, Danny, Bobbi's husband, told me that he reads my blogs.  I was kind of on the edge as to whether or not to continue since today I shut down my facebook page.  You see, I would have never, in a million years thought that Danny, who is a busy father, husband and fireman, would take time to read my silly blogs.  He made up my mind and made me feel good about what I do.  So, thanks Danny!  If something I write can hit home where you are concerned then I must be doing something right.

Writing anything and I mean anything on facebook can cause an altrication if it is taken in the wrong context.  I have been hurt by things and recently found out that I have unintentionally hurt others.  It doesn't matter how nice you are.  It's a problem. 

I started this blog to get the hurt and anger out and to try and make other people understand as much about what a patient goes through as possible.  My story is a little different than most, I hope that helps.

Tonight I want to tell you about my grandmother, Mom.  Not my mother, she is Mommy to me.  And Mom, she was so huge in my life that I was totally in awe of her, right up until the day she passed away.  When I was sick, she would help take care of me.  She would cook my favorite foods to make me eat, knowing I couldn't completely turn it down.  Mom would make liver and onions (which I love) when my counts were down, just incase it might help bring them up.  I can get anemic really easily when I am on chemo, Mom loved me thru it and I miss her.  She was the kind of woman I wanted to be.  I don't even come close to measuring up.  I think when you figure it out, my parents made her a grandmother at 34 yrs old.  Mom changed Easter weekend and Mother's Day so that we could all celebrate together when I felt good.  When Mom died, my world crashed.  I wasn't sure where I belonged but I got put in my place pretty damn quick.  Even though I was basically raised by her and my mother both during my early childhood, it was made very clear that I was to step back and not have anything to say after she passed.  I was a grandchild and I was to stay a grandchild and shut my mouth.  Well, that was ok, really.  But I loved her and still do and I had just as much right to grieve her passing as everyone else had.

Here is how we saw each other....we were driving to Altoona one day to go shopping and I was carrying Nicholas and Bradley was about a year old.  I was very upset and asked her how I was ever going to love this new baby as much as I loved Bradley?  How was I going to make room in my heart for this child that was due in 2 months?  And her response was "I had 8 children before you came,Lisa and I love you just as much as I love all of them,  your heart doesn't make room, it gets bigger."  And she was right, I love all of my kids just the same as if they were the first. 

Telling Mom I had cancer was hard.  Seeing the hurt in her eyes when she looked at me, very hard.  My mother justifies all of it in her mind with the idea that "everybody dies."  And my mother is right.  I am no huge exception to the rule, we are all going to die....the hard part isn't dying. hell, some days I wish we could get it over with already.  The hard part is the suffering.  The pain The hard part is when people look at me and they know.  The hard part is chemo and being sick just so I can have one extra week or month. 

Want to know what is hard?  knowing that people can look at me, know I have cancer and they light a cigarrette.  This could be you!  You are asking for this?  I wouldn't wish this lifestyle on my worst enemy!  I totally understand that quitting cigarettes would be next to impossible.  Next to it!  Surviving what I got, IMPOSSIBLE.  You may be able to drag it out a while but eventually it's going to get you!  Mommy just said the other day that she's gotta die from something!  Mommy this is not it.  And what if you are needed to help raise my kids?  And you get lung cancer?  What is that going to do to my poor kids?  Does anyone think about their future when they pick up that first pack?  I don't even spend money on the lottery much less $5 on a pack of cigarettes?  That is a vacation after a year, isn't it?

Going now, want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and thank you Danny again.

It's been too long

I  know it's been a while since I have written and for those few who follow faithfully, I apologize but as you know it's Christmas.  Things are crazy.  People are crazy!  You would think that the general public would be nice to one another but WOW, are they ever rude and nasty.  And there is definately at least on little boy who deserves nothing but a stocking full of coal for the holiday.  Personally his mother needs a good slap in my opinion.  What happened to raising your children with some manners?  How about some compassion?  My little girl was approached last week by a boy, we won't say his name, giggling and laughing and said to her(w/me and his mother sitting right there)"Your Mom doesn't have hair does she Mara?"  In that moment, that BRAT ruined her Christmas lunch w/me and her Aunt Kim as she replied "no, she doesn't" she dropped her head and I could feel her heart breaking.  Mara had been all smiles before that moment.  His mother said NOTHING, turned her whole body in the opposite direction and did NOTHING!  He was laughing at my daughter because I am bald.  So, knowing he's only 6 and it's her fault he is a brat, he misbehaved the whole time, I stopped him in his smart alec tracks and explained to him that no, I did not have hair, and why.

Please teach your children to ask someone a question w/respect if they have one, and that everyone is different for different reasons, this is what makes us all unique.  Not to point and laugh, you don't know what a person faces everyday of their life.  This child's mother owes my daughter an apology, but I won't hold my breath.  Some parents need to take the time to explain things to their children, don't be embarrassed by them, I'm not.  I would rather someone ask me about my illness so I can explain than see them stare and whisper about me.  When you do that, you not only hurt me but you hurt my kids.  I do not wear wigs because they are uncomfortable, and I will not make myself anymore uncomfortable to make you feel at ease.

OK, back to the story of my illness.  I truly do not remember every treatment or every medication that I have been on, I do know that there are ones I will never forget and I do know that there are alot of folders that hold alot of paperwork, sometimes I wonder how my nurses carry it all.  Every now and then they will break it down so it's less, and just bring the latest info, like the last year or something.  Anyway, after having one chemo treatment, I was scared beyond anything you can imagine to have the second one.

The second chemo was not good.  But they tried putting me on a medication to help with the nasea and vomiting, the name of it is Emend and it saved my life, really.  I would take it before a treatment and the next two days and it shortened the time I was ill.  So, the second time I went for a treatment, Mary picked me up, and we went to the hospital, I saw the doctor and he escorted me to the chemo room.  The nurse got me prepped for the IV and it blew, I could feel myself getting light headed and I told her to give me a minute but she didn't listen, and she stuck me again, and missed the vein, when I told her I was going to pass out she still didn't listen and started to wiggle the needle in, trying to hit the vein, the next thin I remember was waking up to smelling salts, three doctors and some nurses and Mary.  There are some nurses who just should not be in oncology.  I have met my fair share, really.  And then there are those nurses who belong only in oncology.  I will eventually tell you about Jen and Missy and the wonderful staff that Dr. Sbietan has.  But honestly, there is even at least one in that crew that doesn't belong there, I'm sure.

I had a total of 6 chemo treatment like this.  It was what I thought at the time the worst thing ever, and at the time it was.  My mom would bring me vanilla ice cream and force feed me.  Gloria once showed up with a plate of dinner from Mom's on a Sunday and tried to help me eat.  If I didn't get out of bed for more than a day, my mother would come to my house and make me get up and get throw all the curtains open.  At that point all I wanted was to die.  Yes, chemo can be that bad for some people, depending on their disease and the medicine they take.  Other people are just fine and have no side effects at all.

The day that my hair was starting to fall out by the handfuls, I called my sister, Lynn and asked her to come over and bring her clippers, it was a Friday.  The kids were supposed to be with their Dad and he was going to spend the day with Nick and take Bradley to school.  Lynn came over to shave my head and then Mary walked in, and so did my mother.  Then behind Mary came Bradley, Nicholas and Mary's daughter Maggie.  Each one holding a rose in their little hands.  As I sat there in tears and tried not to cry in front of them, they took turns using the clippers and shaved my head.  This gave me and my kids some control over this disease.  Or so I thought.  Later that night I put Nicholas in the bathtub and went to the kitchen for a minute.  When I walked back to the bathroom Nick was crying, really crying heavy sobs. I picked him up from the bath and held him to ask him what was wrong and he said "mommy I am so sorry I shaved all of your hair off"  he didn't fully understand that my hair was going to fall out anyway, that I was going to be bald no matter what.  My son thought he had caused this bald, ugly mess that was my life.  My baby boy.  We talked about it for a while and eventually he understood.  But he was 5.  At 5 everything is because of something they did, remember, I was also going through a divorce, in which he lost his home.

Sorry I need a break.......later.

After you Know

After you know you have cancer, things start to happen very quickly.  So, now that the doctors all know, I have decided to go with a breast specialist to remove the cancerous cells in my left breast and my lymphnodes if, of course, they had been affected, which they had.  So, the docotor, in Cleveland, following the line where the general surgeon had cut to remove the tumor itself, removed breast cancer tissue that he thought was affected and 4 lymphnodes.  They only removed 4 because they did a test with blue dye that  turns the node blue if it had been affected and only the first lymphnode turned blue.  This test is called a sentinal node biopsy.  You pee like you drank smurfberry juice for about 3 days...

OK, so, I spent the night in a Cleveland hotel right next to the Clinic with Jim and my mother that first time and we left to come home the next morning.  I had a couple of drains sewn into my side and had to keep track oif how much fluid came out of them every day.  Home nursing came by to help and show me how to drain them and measure my fluids.  One week later I was to go back and have the drains removed. 

We went back a week later to find out that they did NOT get it all.  I didn't have clean margins and my new oncologist, Dr. Chuu wanted 18 more lymphnodes removed.  So, that surgery was set up for the 3rd week of  February.  My mother and I went the second time, alone.  The second time they kept me in the hospital overnight and I paid for my mom to spend the night in that hotel, they should have somewhere for family members to stay.  If they did, no-one ever offered it to us.  After I woke up from the surgery I was sick from the anesthetic.  There were no nurses around at all.  We paged and paged and tried to get someone in the with one of those things you throw up in but, no luck.  Theren were those air things wrapped around my legs and neither one of us had ever seen those before, so I could not get out of bed either.  My mom quickly grabbed the pitched of water that was sitting there, dumped it down the drain, and held it for me to vomit in.
Still, no nurses.  I was highly disappointed in the nursing staff at that hospital, bt the room was beautiful.  My mother could have slept in there with all of the comforts of home.  Hell, it had it's own couch and everything.

What I did not realize was that my mother was scared to death to drive in the city.  Especially if she didn't know the streets and this was all one-way streets.  So, the next day, when I was released, she came over on the bus to the hospital to get me.  And we had to go back to the hotel on the bus to leave.  Me, having 3 drains this time and not permitted to do much of anything for a while, especially with my left arm. 

So, I drove us out of Cleveland....and to our first stop 2 hours away.  My poor mother is that afraid of snow, and ice and traffic.  Roll it all together and you have me, less than 24 hours out of a partial mastectomy driving out of Cleveland!  To this day, my mom still worries about the weather when she has to go anywhere.

The removal of the drains is never a pleasant experience but the one drain had nerves that had started to grow onto the end of it's tubing because it had to stay in longer than a week.  Not enough fluidhad drained from it, and on occassion when I tried to strip the fluid out of it, it was like no other pain in the world.  But the worst part was when they took a drain out too soon and the underneath of my arm had to be stuck with a needle needle to quickly get the fluid out that was collecting where the lymphnodes had to be removed. 

It would now be time to meet with the oncologist in Altoona that would be handling my chemotherapy. 

And I would like for everyone to know that when all of this was happening, that my children were being very well taken care of by my family members.  My sister Jamie @ one point stayed over, Dana helped out, mostly Gerald and Mary, my Aunt and Uncle.  Everyone had my back, eight years ago.  I do want to say, "thank you" for that, for being there when I needed you.  Jim was taking off work to take me back and forth to appointments and some days we were just getting back in time for him to go  to Pitsburgh for school.  He had almost lost his job @ one point.  By the time that second surgery in Cleveland happened, he had been warned.  That is why it was just my mom and I.  It was ok though.  We really were not sure where this was going anyway were we?

This was all in January, February and March.  I am pretty sure the Chemo started in March.  I have tried to block most of that out.  I begged my mother to never, never take me to chemo.  Gerald was married to my friend Mary.  Meaning that my friend was now my aunt.  She and I were friends since childhood.  She became my go-to person.  She took me to chemo every other Thursday.  The doctor was great.  Dr. Chuu.  The nurses were pretty good too.  I didn't get attached to them like I am my current nurses.  There were more of them and the chemo room was just too clinical.  There was one side with a tv, and around the back of the tv was another tv, where when the first side ran out of chairs, you went to the other side and read magazines or books or listened to music if you had brought some.  There was only one private room and that was rarely used.  I never had chemo with the same people so I never got close with any of them, not like now. 

Cytoxin, Adriamyacin and I forget.  They would do blood work, send me to the doctors room, he would see me, check my counts, then escort Mary and I to the Chemo Room.  After I would get settled Mary would go back out to the front waiting room and wait until my treatment was over, which was hours.  She usually brought a book or some magazines too.  I had a really bad first treatment.  BAD.  It started out with the oncology nurse putting a warm bag on my hand to bring up the blood vessels.  Then they would attempt to put the IV needle in which was always excruciating too.  We all know how painful an IV in your hand can be, and now that I had all of my lymphnodes removed from my left arm every IV had to go in my right hand and every needle stick had to go in my right arm along with the blood pressure cuff.  If they stick me in my left arm aor do a BP there I could end up w/lymphodema which is not another problem that I need.  I should wear a medical bracelet but I don't believe in cheap things that fall apart so I am gonna save up for a gold one.  Or at least sterling silver.  It just has to have the basics engraved.  My mom got me one once but it fell apart on me. 

Back to the first chemo.  I had premeds to keep me from vomiting.  It works for a couple hours maybe a day.  Then when it hits your system you know it!  Take a bad hangover by times 10.  That was chemo for me.  BAD.  I cried and cried.  I was curled up in a ball, in a fetal position and wanted to die.  And I mean die.  Seriously there were times I would be sitting in the bath and wondered how long it would take for my body to bleed out if I sliced my throat, or my wrists.  Who would find me?  Would it be better to drive my car into a large tree at 80 miles and hour, with my luck I would just end up paralyzed for the rest of my life.
For a week it was awful, awful, awful.  Then, exactly one week later, I woke up with all of this energy, and wanted to go shopping.  I felt normal.  I was so happy but I only had one week until my next treatment.  In the meantime I worked, as much as I could, I worked.  Still single mom, paying all of the bills on my own, even though Jim lived with me, I did not want to rely on him.  Sometimes he would purchase groceries.  And that would help out.

That was when I started learning about people.  You know the whole "you find out who your friends are" it is so true.  Getting very tired,more to come tomorrow (I hope) I hope you stick with me. 

Today...

Today I am going to tell you all the truth about cancer and how one of my days starts and ends...and a whole lot of the middle.

I am a stage 4 breast cancer patient, most people don't understand what that means so let me explain to my knowledge.  The first time that I was told I had cancer it was stage 2.  Stage 2 means it left it's original site and found it's way to my lymphnodes.  Which means removal of all cancer in affected area and affected lymphnodes, In my case that meant removal of a tumor, the margins and even though only one lymphnode had been detected 21 were removed.  Then after Mara was born I was diagnosed again, detected in the same breast.  Not sure what stage I was, needed to know how to get rid of it, my life was again on the line, time to have my breasts removed.  That's a whole different blog.  5 years ago I won't get into details but I was diagnosed stage 4, Stage 4 means I am terminal.  There is no stage 5,6,or 7.  At the present moment, I have cancer in my bones, lungs and on my left adrenal gland, which apparently is more important than I ever thought.  Your adrenal gland sits on your kidney.
Ok, so I really wasn't given much time back then but I believe in a much higher power and I believe that I am still here for a reason.

So, anyway here is one of my days.  My alarm goes off @ 6 a.m.  by 6:05 I have been to everyone's room to wake them.  I slowly come downstairs and take a pain pill immediately but not my 12 hour one just my 4 hour one, my 12 hour one I take at 8 a.m. along with an anti-depressant, let's face it, I would have lost sight of this battle years ago w/o that.  After making my coffee I again go to Kate and Brad's rooms and try to wake them, now I start to get a little pissy because I do not want to climb those stairs again, because I cannot breath.  After feeding them something light before they head out at 6:50, I get to drink a cup of my coffee before the queen has to be awakened. 
Mara fights with me about everything from brushing her teeth to what socks she is going to put on and today she tried to wear knee highs over her pants.  She wants to be just like her big sister who is 15.  I am not all about that.  At 7:45 we head for the car to drive out the driveway because I cannot walk that far and I can't breath if I get cold air in my lungs.  We spend 20 minutes of quiet time together doing her spelling words and vocabulary every morning.  She and I make up sentences with the vocabulary words, that's her favorite part.  Then at 8:08 she gets on the bus.  I come back and have more coffee and watch Dr. Phil, after taking my 12 hour pain pill.

Today, however, I had breakfast with my friend Teresa instead of watching Phil, which was much nicer.  By 10 a.m. the pain starts again but it's not excrutiating, it can wait, and I do try to tolerate as much as possible because if I took pills everytime I hurt, I would never be able to function as a human being much less a wife and mother.  I takes me longer to grocery shop than most people, I usually have to have one of the kids along because I cannot bend over or lift anything heavy.  We purchase 50 lbs of dogfood at a clip and for anyone who has seen me lately 50 lbs would snap me in 2.

Which is another thing, I have been desperately trying to put weight on.  I had a bout with some nasty infections last year and lost 40 lbs when I could not eat.  Good thing I am too damn stupid to know I was on my death bed, because it almost got me last Valentine's day. 

So a few days a week I have appointments for blood work and chemo and by the time I do some laundry and started supper it's time for the kids to come home.  In the evening there is plenty of argueing and bickering and usually we have to be somewhere, football, hockey, or the latest, cheerleading.  I try to keep up with my friends as much as possible and I love them all but between their schedules and mine it's hard sometimes to even squeeze in lunch.

Summer is easier we see each other at games or what not...winter sucks!

Anyway by the end of the day I am in excruciating pain and it's time to say our prayers which Mara and I do together.  I am grinding my teeth as I pray for people who are much better off than we are but do not have any idea on what their lives could be.

I am bald, sick and in pain 24 hours of every single day...it sucks but I am here!  I should be a reminder to all women to do self breast exams.  Most times I do not wear wigs or hats, just a soft scarf or bandana.
Cannot hold my eyes open anymore...finish tomorrow....

Wow, last night is a blur.  Today, I get to have lunch w/my daughter @ school.  I have invited Kim and I know she won"t stand Mara up, so we get to do lunch together but it'll be with a bunch of first grade children...I have to shop for my kids yet for Christmas, that should have been done already but I will try to get a few things done tomorrow when I am out with Nikki.  Kim and Nikki, and last night I saw Corrin, these women are like sisters to me.  I may not see them all very much but they are very special and are a huge part of my life and the lives of my kids.   I am blessed to have a lot of friends like this. My friends are a constant in my life and I cherish them immensely because they have chosen to be a part of my world all on their own, even with all of the drama.

But I miss my sisters.  My blood sisters.  Well, I miss who they used to be.  Not too sure what has happened to us.  We all grew up and went separate directions, and we changed.  I will admit I am not the same person I used to be.  But will they?  I have 3 sisters, I will not say their names in here, it would be inappropriate to say anything negative and name them.  Just don't want anyone who loves and cares about me to judge them.  And you would, because we have a bond.  I pray my boys NEVER have a falling out like this.  Sad thing is we didn't have a falling out, we just stopped being a family.  I miss my nephews and my nieces. 

I didn't ask for this illness.  I am glad that it has given me angels to be my friends.  I would not wish this disease on my worst enemy, but sometimes I want to put the people who are SUPPOSED to care about me in my shoes.  Just for a day, or a few hours.  During the vomiting and the runs and messing my own clothes and bed, and then having to call my mom to come and help me clean it, because I cannot stand up.  Or my aunt Mary Ann who comes at the drop of a hat when called because I am too sick to die and Bradley has the flu.  So we are both vomiting.  Or Aunt Jo, who is Jim's, officially, but I have adopted her.  She is ALWAYS here when needed.  If I have to run to Conemaugh for fluids or to be admitted, she makes sure these kids are taken care of.  Even if she has to call someone else to cover for her when she has to go to work.  It's embarrassing to be me sometimes....I used to be strong, independant, and beautiful.  And as Jim put it a couple weeks ago, he "remembers when". 

Jim, not sure how he even looks at me sometimes.  He's here.  He tries. It depends on his mood.  Right now things are tough here.  Jim makes fabulous money when he's working, when he isn't we are at each other's throats.  Money, the root of all evil.  It's sad really.  It puts pressure on all of us and my situation does not handle stress well.  I feel like someone is sitting on my chest lately.  I cannot breath.  Jim paces constantly.  In his business if it rains, they don't work.  We cannot count on the money or insurance.  It's a constant worry and yet we are better off than most.  We truly are.  We are managing.  Which is more than most people can do right now.

My kids think I should have my book published and we would be set, but they don't understand that to publish may cost me money.  I am snapping at everyone constantly.  Please dear God give me the grace to calm down and whatever happens....happens.  We have always been ok.

I don't know anyone who has an illness like this that doesn't have money issues.  It's the last thing anyone who is fighting an illness should worry about and yet it's the first and most difficult.  Co-pays for medicine and co-pays for doctor appointments even if you have insurance.....The welfare system is a disgusting mess.  Most, not all people on it, most have been doing it for generations.  Then there are people who work for their money and insurance and they (we) are the ones that suffer.  I wish I had cash assistance, and a free cell phone right now.
Oh well. Just bitchy today I guess, it'll get better, it always does....and by all means, please don't think I am asking for anything including anyone's pity.  I am venting.  I do that.  My arms ache now, so I will sign off for now, God bless you all.......................have a great day, mine will get better by lunch time!

My husband and I

Well, I told you about the first time I was diagnosed.  I should tell you about the four months before that.  That is after I left my first husband and found my current husband, Jim.  I had left Brian and in June and met Jim in August. 
August of 2003. A small red car pulled up in the car dealership lot that I worked at and out stepped a 6'4 man.  My co-workers and myself were getting ready to close for the night and go out to the local pub for a drink, this included the General Manager/Owner and his General Sales Manager.  So, basically we wanted to get rid of the latest customer, and try to get him to come back another day so we could do just that.  A couple of salesmen tried too approach him before I did and had no luck.  He was eyeballing a newer F-150 Supercrew when I approached him from behind.  Here is this guy in a pair of Levi's that looked fabulous on his physique, but he was covered in black grease from head to toe from his work boots to his ball cap.  It was dark out but he was standing just under one of street lamps in the lot.  From behind, I got a view of Jim's clothes and LEGS there was 4 feet of just legs!  From the waist up he broadened into a V-shapethat would make any woman swoon.  "He had to be Ugly" was my first thought. He heard me approach him and just as I asked him if there was anything I could help him with he turned around and I quickly found out, I was wrong!  I lost track of the dirt and grease and all I could see were his beautiful blue eyes and long black lashes (so jealous).  He had a very masculine jawline, and a cleft right in the center of his chin, and when he smiled he had...dimples!  Jim had huge, broad shoulders the kind that could carry the burden of the world and his arms were huge!  PERFECTION was standing in front of me.  Then, as most men do, he opened his mouth and ruined it.
He explained to me how women coould not be trusted and I wasn't going to be any different.  It seems we were both going through a divorce.  He was fighting for the custody of his kids and I was just fighting to get out.  I asked him if there was anyway he could make an appointment for Saturday morning and test drive the truck and he agreed.
  To my surprise, on Saturday morning, there stood this handsome, clean shaven gentleman ready to take a demo ride in a beautiful grey F-150 supercrew. So we did...and I spent the morning doing paperwork and trying not to stare at him. Normal paperwork was finished, we were talking about what we were each going to do that evening and he told me that he was going out with some of his friends, I explained to him that my family owned a bar in a small town not too far from there and if they headed in that direction that he should stop in and say "hello". The rest of the day went by as usual except for the call I recieved that afternoon from Jim to ask me if it were really an invitation to stop by or if I was just making conversation...I assured him he would be very welcome if he showed up that evening. So, after going to Mom's after work and getting the boys ready to see their father, I headed out.. there really wasn't much else to do and the boys hadn't been going with their Dad for long so I was still nervous about that and didn't sleep well. Off to the Schooner on a Saturday night. Later that night as my Aunts and I were hanging out on the dance floor, and having a few drinks together, in walked my future husband Jim, with two of his friends. My one aunt, Audrey at that point informed me that if I wasn't going to take him home she was. And by the way she looked at him, I believed her! As a matter of fact, my aunt Susan even came over and picked up my drink, and dumped it down the drain for fear that I may do something stupid if I had too much to drink.  And we didn't know him, none of us did(meaning the 50 people already in the bar.) So it can be great to own a bar, and other times your family can shut you off whenever they feel like it! It was a very interesting night, we danced together and at one point a slow song came on and I went to walk off of the dance floor and Jim grabbed me by the hand and I danced with him.  All I could do was press my body against all of the mucsles in his, he felt like perfection. Even though his body was hard as a rock, he held me gently, so as not to hurt me. After a while we walked outside to get some air, he wanted me to see pictures of his daughter and son, his daughter had just had a birthday and turned 6, and his son's birthday was soon. So we looked at pictures of the kids while leaning against the car and he kissed me for the first time, it was as though we had been practicing that kiss for the last 20 years, nothing had ever been so perfect. During the evening, we had to go outside a few times to get some air, (it got really hot in the bar on a Saturday night, especially that Saturday night), and he asked me if he could see me again. I think it was well after 4:00 a.m. when we finally went our separate ways. He left with his friends and I helped close up the bar. My head was spinning and not from alcohol.
Waking up the next morning on my grandmother's couch I thought about what Jim must think of me...imagine that I had just sold him a truck and ended up kissing him that very night, I probably didn't look very good in his eyes. I had no phone number for him and no way to get in touch with him until Monday morning when I got to work. All day Sunday I wondered what he could possibly be thinking, or was he thinking about me at all? Pretty sure there were other women in his life that he didn't get serious about either, I tried to put him out of my mind. This was not an easy task. The man was gorgeous!!! What more could a girl ask for?
Monday rolled around as usual and I didn't hear from him, not until late in the day anyway, he rolled in on his motorcycle to check and see how the paperwork was going on his truck, and to put down a huge deposit, the truck had to go in his mother's name because of the divorce still pending, we talked for a few minutes and before he left I gave him my cell phone number hoping he would eventually call, I didn't want to push things because of the truck, I really didn't want him to think that was the way I did business. I didn't need him to think I was some kind of tease until I got a deal signed. There had been occasions that I lost sales because I wouldn't go out with people, that wasn't in the job description and the boss wasn't really pushing me in that direction either. So, I was lucky in that respect. But was there a new development between the boss and myself?
Jim and I spoke a couple of times that week but between my hours and my kids and his job and his kids we didn't see each other again and on Saturday afternoon his mother came in to sign the paperwork and take the truck home. I asked her if her son, Jim was for real, he seemed so genuine and so shy and wonderful, as a matter of fact he really couldn't look directly at me to speak to me, he always kept his head down as though he had something to be ashamed of, but he was so very handsome, and his body was something out of a romance novel. I didn't know it yet but he was to be my "knight in shining armour." Bonnie, his mother told me that yes, it was Jim. That he had basically been emotionally abused in his first marriage and to be careful not to hurt him. Wow, we both had been down a nasty path for a long time. Why had we found each other now? Was it fate? Finally, someone who could understand...maybe?
Jim eventually called and we started dating on a regular basis, but that was all it was, dating. I never introduced him to my children and I only saw him when my schedule allowed it, after the boys were in bed at night we would sit on my Gram's front porch on the swing sometimes until 4:00 in the morning, each one of us having to get up for work in the morning, but it didn't matter, we both seemed just so happy to be there sitting together and talking about everything under the sun. If the boys were out with their Dad, we would go out to dinner and go dancing for the night, we loved to dance together, we were so compatable on the dance floor, and we had a fantastic time, there was only one problem...the chemistry between us was extreme and I mean extreme, so much so that we had to pull ourselves away from one another at times just to cool off, we had made promises to ourselves and each other to put certain things off until we knew for sure what direction this relationship was headed, neither one of us was ready for another heartbreak. To this day there is the ongoing joke between us about making out on my grandmother's swing on the front porch of her house. It just goes to show that anyone can have will power when it comes to situations like that. I never felt more like a teenager(even when I was one)in my life. We wanted each other, but it wasn't appropriate, not yet. And I wasn't about to be anyone's one night stand. I had been with Brian for so many years, I wasn't even sure what it would be like to be with someone else. Not that there hadn't been certain times when the opportunity presented itself, but that is not the kind of wife or woman that I am.
In October I eventually had enough money to rent my own place and purchase a set of bunk bed for my sons. The house I rented was very small but convenient because it was only one block up from my Gram's and I still had family everywhere to help with the kids...Nick went to the local daycare during the day if I was working and Bradley had started kindergarten. The first night in my new home, I was going to be alone,( without the kids I mean) so that happened to be the very first time Jim and I spent the night together. It was the most intense experience I have ever had, we were already so much in love and that just kind of put the icing on the cake as they say. We have been inseparable ever since. Our relationship could not have been more perfect, even though each one of us had so much baggage, we were both fighting divorces and he was fighting to see his children as much as possible, luckily he had his mom to help out with his kids whenever he had them on the weekends. He was staying with her so his mom would help out with his kids on the weekends if he needed her. Looking back now I don't know where we found the energy to do everything we were doing or the time for that matter. I was working so many hours and he was going to Pittsburgh to school two nights a week after working all day long. Then he would come to the house and see me for a little while before he had to go back to work. Weekends were getting tougher, I worked every Saturday without fail and kids, we tried to keep them out of the relationship as long as we could.
When I left work on Saturdays I would take Mom out to dinner, wherever she wanted to go, sometimes we would let my boys choose, with Nick it was always McDonald's and with Bradley it was always Red Lobster. Every now and again Mom and I would have Chinese or go to have a nice steak somewhere like Jethro's. She and I could have never spent enough time together, but she always made time to sneak off with the boys. She was always going and picking them up from daycare or she would just make me leave them with her if Bradley didn't have school and she wasn't working.
We had a Halloween Party as usual at the bar near the end of the month, I was dressed as a belly dancer and I had dresseed Jim as a Grecian God...Ha! Well, everyone knew from work that we were going to this party, some people wanted to go and meet us there. Which was what I thought my General Sales Manager was going to do. To my surprise, Blondie showed up as I was getting dressed and had the nerve to walk in my room as I was getting dressed. She made a comment about my underwear. She wanted to know where I bought them and exactly what type they were, she had never seen that type before. She was trying to become me. Seriously become me. She wanted to wear my clothes and go shopping with me and become my very closest friend. Thank goodness I had my friend Lena. She explained some things to me and I soon realized I was being stalked because this crazy woman thought that I was having an affair with her lover. She went so far as to go her car, get in it on a Saturday after work and follow me to my home! It gets better....
One afternoon in November,I went picked the boys up at daycare after Bradley got off of the bus and I asked Jim to go with me. We took them to the local playground and had dinner at the house and they asked if he could stay. He didn't officially become a part of the household until sometime around Christmas, not that they knew of anyway. We had spent so many nights together by that time but it was always when the kids were with their dad or whenever they were fast asleep in another room...I guess it was kind of exciting having my own little secret world for a short time.   Never had I felt more love and affection in my life and I felt sexy and desireable because that's how Jim made me feel. He was sexy and muscular and protective and I have never felt safer than I did with him. He was truly everything I had ever dreamed of in a man, and he was mine, you could see it in his eyes, he definately loved me and only me.  

1st diagnosis

Today I had dinner with some of my extended family. You know, aunts, uncles, and cousins. My mother and father were there and so was one of my sisters and her family. We all got together at my uncle's request because my Great Aunt Mary was home. I don't recall seeing her since my Grandmother passed. Something I cannot speak about as of yet.
Not sure how many of them are upset with me over this blog, but no-one can accuse me of slander. This is MY story, how I feel and how I see it. Let me tell you first about my first diagnosis, I am sure you will begin to understand how I became so "hostile" as some have put it lately.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 32. In the middle of a divorce, and raising 2 young men as a single mother basically since the day they were born. My ex-husband used to work away, by away I mean Egypt, and Saudi Arabia, not Arkansas. The money was great but it changed us. When the time came for him to come home, there were just no way things were going to work. That is a story in itself.
Jim and I had been dating for about four months and on the day I found the lump in my breast, the kids were getting ready to go with their dad and I was getting ready to go ut for the evening. It was around 4 P.M. and I was taking a bath, I remember what time it was because it was almost time for my mom to get off work and I could not call the doctors office because when my mom confirmed I was right, there definately was a lump, the office was already closed. Back to the lump. It was the size of a quarter, directly behind my left aeriola. What the hell?
Jim hadn't felt that? Seriously? I know this probably sounds a little TMI, but I am going to tell this story right. Jim and I had only been together for a short period of time so things were still very exciting and erotic and happening a few times a day. If that lump had been there, he would have noticed! I was not nuts! I asked my mother, the woman who had seen me through some nasty stuff, to feel for the lump. She felt it too. And even though she told me not to panic, she had that panic struck look on her face. I had been at the gynecologist for my yearly exam just 6 weeks before. The doctor should have felt it during his exam. I should have felt it before this.
There was nothing we could do at that point accept wait for the next day. So, that's what we did. I called the doctors office the next morning. They saw me right away and confirmed that the lump was there. Ran a sonogram and confirmed that there was blood flow to the tumor, yes, tumor. Now was it going to be malignant or benign? It was Christmas. Yep! Merry F'n Christmas. So, now I got to wait until January the 2nd to have the lumpectomy done. No-one was willing to chance a needle biopsy, I think they were all pretty sure I had cancer. Stick a tumor that size and it could spread. Right?
On January 2nd, Jim and my Mom, whom I am never without for a surgery, took me to the hospital, there was a small incision right around the edge of my left aeriola. I had to keep ice on it the rest of the day in some weird bra contraption. And I had to wait. And wait, and wait. I waited 6 whole days. I called every day. No-one had any answers.
On January the 8th, Nicholas's 5th birthday, I recieved a phone call at work, from the general surgeon's office asking me to come there immediately. So I asked the secretary, "It's cancer, isn't it?" and she confirmed my worst fears. My mother came to pick me up, not that she was in any better shape than I was, but she wanted to drive me and find out what we had to do next. I remember very little from that afternoon. Just that I was scheduled to have a radical mastectomy on January 23rd of 2004. I remember the date because it was my dad's birthday.
My family had to be told. My children had to be told. Jim had to be told, and he had to go! He was everything I had ever dreamed of, but I could not expect him to live this nightmare after only 4 months of dating. My children. My boys. Ages 6 and now 5 respectively. My mother, my grandmother and my sisters. My sisters, what if they had it? What kind of risk were they and my mother at? What about my Aunts.
My family was very close. I was close with almost all of my family. You see, my mother had given birth to me at a very young age, very young, and I was close with my aunts and uncles on her side of the family, at times in my life, they were more like brothers and sisters, the younger ones especially. Audrey and Alan, and Gerald. Gerald is only 4 years older than me. And my grandmother, she walked on water. To this day, I do not know how my parents did it. I don't know how they have made it this far. I have tremendous respect for their marriage. 40 years after the fact they are still together.
My grandmother's reaction that first time, I do not remember. My mother was devastated. I do however, remember Gerald taking the cigarettes out of his pocket and throwing them in the garbage can next to him. I do remember the constant "I am going to die." phrase going through my head. Who was going to take care of my babies? Surgery, chemo, radiation.....it all seemed like soooo much.
The following week I went back to work. One of the women that I worked with at that time told me that she had a niece that worked at Cleveland clinic for a breast cancer specialist. She asked if I would like to see this specialist. I jumped at the chance and she made the call. Before the surgery I had an appointment for a second opinion with a specialist! My co-workers at the time were incredible. when I saw this doctor, he informed me that I didn't have to have both my breasts removed, for that matter, I didn't have to have either breast removed.
Jim had driven me to Cleveland and I was elated to find out that I could stay in one piece! I agreed to have the surgery there on the 24th of Jan. In the meantime Jim and I were trying to figure out where our relationship was going, if anywhere. He refused to call it quits. But I had to concentrate on Bradley and Nicholas, they were my priority, along with getting healthy again.
Gonna try to post this, no phone available again....but Jim has wi-fi on his cell....more tomorrow guys!

Control

Here is tonight's blog sorry about last night, no phone service.  This is from one of my previous journal entries.

OK, so let me tell you how very controlling I can be, and I just recently realized it. Until the last few months I pretty much believed that I was dying. So did my husband, and I’m not sure who else. But I was so positive that I did not make plans for the future with the exception of where my body would be viewed, whether I would be buried or creamated, and if I was buried where would that be? Who did I want at the viewing? Who did I not want at the viewing? I have thought about every single detail, and I had pretty much planned out my funeral arrangements right down to the color of the flowers. What I had not planned was what I was going to do with my life. Yes, I cherished every moment. But who the hell cares what color the flowers are or who is there? I will be dead. My concern was being like a fly on the wall and not being happy with the arrangements that someone else made, and that may be true but it isn’t like I’m going to be able to tell them anyway.
This huge revolation came to me whenever my husband started speaking about his retirement and how he was going to move away, out of Pa. whenever he retires and he did not include me in his plans. There was not a "we" in his comments. And it pissed me right off. Not because of what he said but because I have been doing the same thing for years. I planned everything around my death and nothing around my life. Yes, I have stage 4 cancer. Yes, I have very young children and there are times when things are very grim looking, but damnit I have made it this far! Why can’t I be here another 6 or 7 years and see my sons graduate and go to college? Why not 12 years and watch my daughter do the same thing? I hold my children to a very high standard, why shouldn’t I be here to share in the pride of watching them go off to MIT or YALE? I deserve that just as much as any other mother. I fight for my life every single day. There are moments, not days, but moments, when I forget that I am a cancer patient. Thanks to the people in my life.
My friends do not think of me as ill. My children do not think of me as ill. The only people who think of me as ill are the people who on a rare occasion have to take care of me. Dr. Sbietan has not given up on me, and I am not about to give up on me. I am not about to give myself six months or a year to live. And if I don’t do it, then the only power who can is the Lord himself, and I think he has bigger plans for me than that.
IMy children know what I expect of them, and they know that I love them more than I have ever loved anything or will ever love anything or anyone. My parents know that I love them. My sisters know that I love them. My family and friends know that I love them. There are people in my life that I am not really fond of, they too, know this.
I do not pretend to like people I do not like. I do not pretend to like situations I do not like. I love whole heartedly when I love someone, I believe that is the only way to love someone or something and that is with all of your being.
When I had my breasts removed I lost a part of who I am. People may see this as vain and maybe it is, but I lost a part of my femininity. A part of being a woman. My wonderful, adoring husband doesn’t feel this way, but I do. Cleavage doesn’t seem like a big deal until you have none. Nipples don’t seem like a big deal until you have none. There is no feeling in my chest at all. I had my breasts removed because they were killing me and yet I was torn as to whether or not to do it because of how it would make me feel as a woman. That part of me is dead. Thrown away somewhere. Tossed aside as though it were not important, and looking at the bigger picture, it wasn’t important. They were just boobs. Right? No more important than arms or legs, ev en less important because I did not need them to function. Right? Why then, was it so terrifying, painful and heart-breaking? Because in this society, your body is who you are.
I make jokes about it constantly, it makes me feel better and puts other people at ease. It hurts though, whenever your husband wants to be with you and you just saw yourself naked getting out of the bathtub. You don’t understand how this man can possibly want you. How could any man ever really want you ever again? When I had my surgery my marriage was 4 months old and my daughter was less than 3 months old. I had nursed both of my sons. I had already done everything I could to stay alive and keep my breasts. Jim and I had begun to move on with a normal every day life. This was not fair to any of us, especially me. They were removing my breasts! If that wasn’t bad enough I had a new baby I would not be able to hold for a long time. She was heaven sent. She and her brothers would be the reason to do this. They were more important than breasts. Being here for them was more important.
So, that part of me was now dead. But hey, I got new, better ones. I went through many expansions, every other week. And whenever my skin could not stretch anymore I finally had silicone implants put in. Had I known then that I was going to gain 20 lbs. I would have had another 200 cc’s put in. My husband tells me constantly that I "had a $70,000 boob job done You should have gone bigger" and shows me the palm of his hand..(he’s kidding, he could care less). My husband has enormous hands. Seriously, he’s not normal. Most of who he is, is wonderful.
When they put my implants in they had to cover the left implant with muscle and skin from my back. My doctor was simply amazing, she made sure that the line she cut stayed under a brastrap as much as possible. It didn’t matter because the skin stretched and pulled apart anyway. Dr. DeLaCruz even went back in to try and fix it after that, there just wasn’t enough skin, so that is now an ugly scar too. More dead nerves. Most of the pain after my surgery came from the incision in my back.
Jim took care of me. After my intial surgery to have my breasts removed he took care of the drains that came from my side and back. He would bath me and wash my hair, and while I was in the hospital he would feed me when I could not lift my arms. And I sooooo did not want my new husband to see my chest without breasts, but when the doctor came in to check on the incisions he was standing at the foot of the bed with my mother, they had both spent the night, and his reaction was "no big deal’. I could not have loved him more. He didn’t walk out, he didn’t look shocked or disgusted, he just said "no big deal". And to him it wasn’t because I was alive, and at the time we thought this surgery would end the threat. The constant nagging threat that breast cancer had become. For the next 15 months we would feel relief. We were so very foolish.
So, back to the feeling of death. I have been through more forms of chemotherapy than any one person should ever go through. There are side effects of chemo that are kind of scary looking. Of course, as you know, I lost my hair, every single time. There are times when you lose feeling in your feet and hands. Then there is your fingernails turning a dark shade of nasty. With the meds I am on now, I get tremendously bad nose bleeds, that go on forever. Your nerves are shot, you get sick in the stomache, you get either constipated or have the runs. You can no longer stand the thought of coffee even though you love drinking it. You bruise everytime someone touches you and sex, who can find the energy for that. I have had trouble seeing because the chemo affects my eyesight. I am lucky at times if I can stand up on my own much less drive or get my kids to where ever they need to be. The plus to chemo….I am alive. Partially anyway.
Cancer kills part of who you are, no matter what type of cancer you have, it takes away some of who you are. Sometimes maybe that’s a good thing, it is quite a reality check. It can humble a person in seconds. It can also make a person resentful and mean. You have to in your head and heart decide how you are going to handle your diagnosis. Everyone dies. But does everyone truly live while they are here? Yes, you have the same realities in life that normal people have , but you have been given a gift of knowing that you are not invincible and you have been given the gift of not being able to say "someday" now, as a cancer patient you get to do it if you want to. And I mean anything.
Where there is a will there is a way. When I want something I immediately do it. There will always be dirty dishes, the laundry will always need done. These are necessary things but sometimes they can wait. A trip to Alaska cannot. A cruise to the Mediterranian cannot! My next trip is a vacation with all 5 kids and my husband to the beach at topsail island. We we will be joining Aunt Jo and Bobbi Jo and her 3 children. I am very excited! And for next year, I think 2 weeks at Disney would be nice. But we will drive to get there so maybe 10 days at Disney would be better. I love to travel! I will get to sit on the beaches in Greece with my husband, after my daughter is a little older, which will make my sons a little older. It may take some serious saving for that trip.
As you can see, I am now planning life, not death. It has taken me years to let go of what I cannot control. I cannot control what will happen once I am gone, but I can control what will happen while I am here, and I will be happy with who I am and what I have to do. My full time position is staying alive. The responsibilities that come along with that position are HUGE! And the hours are crazy. But the benefits are endless as long as you have your head on straight and know that the benefits are time with your children and husband, family, and of course, friends. If you are looking to create some kind of monetary benefit forget it, you cannot take it with you anyway. Be content with who you are as a human being.  Money will not solve my biggest problem.
Make many memories, death will eventually come and it will probably come very quickly when it does, so I refuse to waste my time thinking about something that is inevitable.

Thanks for reading;
Lisa

Concert Night in N.C.

The kids and I went to the local middle school tonight for the chorus concert aand I am so glad we did.  The only reason we were there was because my son Bradley was doing the video.  But I got to see a few people that I haven't seen in a while and that I have missed.  Thank you Diane for comming to say "hi" I would have NEVER found anyone in that big room full of people

So, first let me tell you about Diane, she is my friend and a co-survivor.  She has pushed through the fear and chemo and made it to the other side BEFORE it could settle in other places and take her life.  She is beautiful and so is her family.  Her aunt Ann is also a co-survivor with whom I have a close tie and wish I would have been able to see her tonight, I miss her.  There family has been down the road of loss when it comes to cancer, Andy was lost to this illness after years of fighting and is missed by many.  Their family has been to my home to drop of groceries and love....right when we needed it.  Diane, you are beautiful and you look great.  Keep up the battle, it never seems to go away.

Then I ran into Joan, and Aubrey.  My friend Dena's mom and daughter.  They have also lost a loved one to cancer, just this year, the beginning of the year, right after Christmas last year.  Mike had three little boys and a wife, he never had a chance.  It had him beat before he even started to fight.  He had a very rare form of cancer and now his sons will be raised w/o him.  This disease, once again SUCKS!

It was nice to sed my son Bradley sitting with his friends or his friends sitting with him while he reorded the concert.  They laugh and smile, they goof off and I am just glad they are all so happy go lucky!  Nick sat with me, he's my mother hen and worry wort.  He helps me walk the steps when I start to lose power.  He makes sure my legs don't give out on me and I fall.  And since I have been on this new chemo there is no feeling in my feet (just the bottoms) so I can get a little wobbly.  Fun fact...it also took the feeling from the palms of my hands and my finger tips.  Mara and Katy sat on my right and my little one got bored quickly and hungry. 

Before the concert, we had gone to check out a cheerleading group Mara wants to join.  Cute.  I am pretty sure we can swing it, it's only in Hastings and it's only on Wed. nights unless we do private lessons then we would probably add Sunday for 1/2 an hour.  Some of her friends are in it so she'll have fun.

I, got to spend the afternoon with two darling women, Kim and Tricia.  There is a lot I can say about these women but I won't it would take up my whole blog to tell you how wonderful they are.  My son happens to be seeing Kim's daughter right now that makes for interesting conversation considering how young they are.  I want it to stay fun and light conversation for as long as possible.  Doesn't matter what happens with them.  Kim and I will be great!  There is so much to say about our relationship, it's complicated.  As for Tricia, we kind of have the same relationship, my daughter Katy seems to be very interested in her son.  I want to keep that light and happy too!  I have so much respect for both of these women. 

My friends don't care if I am having a "bad"(no) hair day.  They don't care that I have no eyelashes or eyebrows.  Which I am considering having tattooed on!  If anyone has had it done let me know if you are happy with it.  Anyway they worry about me if I "don't look so good" or if I have lost a lot of weight.  They worry if they haven't heard from me in a while and make it a point to call.  I can say my friends are true friends and I can talk to them about anything and they don't judge me.  Today, for instance, I had to have Kim look at my eyelids to see if they were swollen or if I was seeing things.  Nope they were definately swollen and pink.  But, I had a conversation the other day w/my mom and I cried a lot.  Then I cried at the funeral and the church yesterday.  It might be a side effect of the meds too, who knows.?  Anyway by this evening the swelling was gone.  Pinkness still there.

So, our most recent loss was my friend Lisa.  I have some questions, first one "WHY"?  Aunt Red asked me that question with tears in her 96 year old eyes.  "Why her at 54 and not me at 96?"  Does anyone have an answer?  I don't.  Tumors are in my bones, lungs, on my adrenal gland and now I can literally see one growing in my chest.  I don't know Lisa's whole story.  I know how tough she was.  I know she was loved and I know she wanted to live.  So she fought.  Fought with the drugs our government approved, and she lost.

I have known a lot of people that have died from this illness, before I got sick I didn't know anyone with cancer with the exception of my grandpap Sherry who had it cut out and radiated and then it was over.  I was young and didn't understand.  Grandpap had mouth cancer from chewing and smoking a pipe.  He's still here and he's 90.  He had beat the cancer, wasn't easy I am sure but he beat it.

So, back to tonight, as I sat in my vehicle waiting for Bradley to finish up, people could not light cigarettes fast enough comming out the door and running to their cars.  If you never read anything else I write, read this "stop smoking"  I get it's hard, I know it's an addiction, I get it, addiction.  But comming from a woman who has been down a lot of roads that start with anti naseau medicine, you do not want to go thru chemo.  I can't stand the smell of smoke.  My whole family smokes with very few exceptions.  PLEASE quit.  UGLY, and BALD is not becomming.  Scars from one end of your body to another so not worth it.

You know there are times when I forget about my cancer, and then I will look in the mirror or get in the shower...or here is the best, go to the local chorus concert, I am reminded immediately!!!  By a room full of strangers.

I will never forget the day that we had just sat down to supper, we must have had a fantastic day because Mara looked up at me and she said "you didn't even have cancer today Mommy."  God has blessed me with the innosence of that little girl.  I hope she can say that again someday, and it be true and for real.  God Bless you all, and good night.

Getting to the Reality of Life

Ok, so it's about time for everyone to settle in for the night and I have taken my meds which means I should probably not be blogging there is no holding back when I am wound this tight, waiting for the pills to kick in.

The pills consist of Pain, of course, nerve, and sleeping. Pain killers are never enough during the day especially since the new development of hip pain, yes the one I had replaced.  My Mom is convinced it's a nerve and I think she's right because we have been down this road of x-rays and MRI's and so far it's pretty much in my imagination according to the tests I have had done.  It is the same undeniable pain that I felt 5 years ago when we figured out that my cancer had come back with a vengence and was in my lungs and bones and had broken my hip.  It had also covered, at the time my ovaries but basically the only pain I had was headaches (mets in my skull) and my broken hip that I was seeing a local chiropractor for.  The chiropractor shall remain nameless because he worked on what was "slipped discs" for three weeks before realizing I did not need him I needed an oncologist.  And I went to see my family doctor.

There is so much to tell about the last 8 years of my life, I do not want to overwhelm anyone.  Right now I am dealing with a bit of family crap.  I truly feel like the black sheep of the family.  Years of resentment and lies have caught up to everyone.  I am pretty sure, at least in my mind that I was expected to pass on, we shall call it, years ago and certain "loved ones" got tired of waiting and just cut me out of their lives. 

I hope when you die, you get to be a fly on the wall and watch everyone and how they react to your demise.  I want to see the show certain ones put on and if they truly are crying real tears instead of the big ol' crocodile ones, I will know it's from guilt.  Ask me when the last time was that one of my family called me.  I have lots.  My mother is the only one, really, who hangs in there.  My father calls when I am on my death bed from chemo.  That is when he worries most.

Let's get back to the pain part.  I can only feel the pain in my bones, it hurts.  I manage with a smaller amount of pain meds during the day because I still have to function as a human being.  I still get my kids up for school every day, drive them where they need to go, and cook their meals and do their laundry.  I stay up with them when they are sick, I hold them when they are running a fever. To this day I still want my mom when I am sick so I don't want to take that from them before I have to.  Pain is part of the process, but people live with it every single day.  Most have brought it upon themselves.  It is very hard for me to listen to someone complain about silly things.  Legitimate pain, I can relate. 

My biggest pet peeve, stupidity!  If there were a cure for my illness I would do it.  I want, more than anything to be the mother of the bride, to both my girls even though I will have to take a step back when it's Katy.  Mara is only 6, so the system has to keep me around for at least another 20 years!  Can they do it?  Anyway, back to stupid.  Can you hear a doctor say "cut back on the soda, cut out the pasta and chips and your chance of being a diabetic goes way down"...but not listen?  Imagine this "lose 30 lbs and you will no longer have to take this or that medication".  Ok, now....Cut off both of your breasts and you will be able to raise your 6 WEEK old daughter.  OK, DONE.  "sorry, 18months ago we were wrong, or we missed something, your death is immenent, there is cancer all through your body, you don't have much time, purchase a video camera, your daughter will never remember you".

After lots of tears, and family drama that I now do not understand.  I prayed to my God, met my God sent doctors, and made promises to my babies.  The most important one being that as long as there was something to fight with, I would fight.  My kids are my life even though they take ALL the crap when I am having a bad day.  Sometimes my husband takes it, but he's a strong man.  Stronger than most.  My mom I vent to at times, I used to vent to one of my sisters but she has recently shut me out of her world too.  My cancer is my cross to bare not theirs and we all have our own lives and our own crosses.  When my family feels that they have found me and fighting for a cure for my illness on their priority list, they will let me know.

In the mean time, writing makes me feel better and I have friends that are literally angels that hold me up on a daily basis.  God bless you all, you know who you are.  I am sure you will eventually be mentioned in here, my blog, can you believe it?  I am finally getting my story out to the world.  And the first thing I want to let people know is that you do not have to be 40 to get breast cancer, I was only 32.  And there are plenty of women younger than me who have lost their lives to this illness. 

I have spent years getting to know cancer, as I said in an earlier post, I adopted it a long time ago, couldn't get it to leave, it was an unwanted guest.  It feels like that drunk at the bar that you can't get out so you can lock up and go home, but for me, that's 24/7.  The pain is starting to slowly subside and I am slowling down on the keyboard, must be time to quit before I say something I shouldn't, I will pray for all of you, please do the same for me and my children.
And by the way, we live by the theory that hugs make you live longer, so get all the hugs you can get.  And I am haing a very hard time with letting go of the past and being able to forgive, truly forgive, not just say I have forgiven, letting go of hurt and rage in my heart so please if someone can answer this question for me.  "How do you forgive something that someone denies, and is not sorry for?"  Forgiveness can't be given to someone who would do it all over again tomorrow, can it?  I only have 2 cheeks.

December 6th, 2011, evening post

Well, today I started a blog, and went to a funeral.  That is a lot for one day,(not).  But I will say that the funeral was a little draining.  Let me tell everyone about me and my family.

I have a total of five kids.  Yours, mine and, of course, ours.  My husband Jim is 42 and I just turned 40 in July of this year, which I thought would be much more of an experience.  Any kind of experience.  My children threw a party for me which was great of them, but, as usual, some of my family members ruined it for a lot of my friends and myself.
There is Katy, our oldest daughter.  She is 15 and right in the middle of trying to grow up too fast.
There is Bradley, who is 14 and has an ego the size the continental United States.
James, he's the only one who doesn't choose to live with us at the age of 13 and mostly confused about a lot of things that happen here.  You kind of have to be here on a day to day basis to keep up.
Nick, he's also going to be 13 in January, and he's going through a "I wish I knew when to be quiet" phase.  which is driving quite a wedge between us right now.  But he's so cute and he's got those, big, brown eyes....
And then there's the "ours", Mara.  She is a whole 6, and at a very challeging age, has reached 1st grade with all of her wisdom and teeth!

My family probably doesn't sound very interesting to most until you factor in the fact that we adopted Breast Cancer about 8 years ago.  At first, it was a foster child that came and went a few times and then when Mara was about 18 months old, it decided to take permanent residence here with my family, in my body.  And that my friends, is what this blog is all about.

A few years ago I had started to write a book, and I keep writing but it never has an end.  So, I will blog, and if you want to read great!  And if not, ok too.  If I have something nasty to say, I will say it anyway but I will change the people's names not to have any law suit or hate crimes against me.

My breast cancer story starts way back when I was just starting divorce proceedings and becomming a newly single mother who worked at a radio station and needed a much better paying job.  My not soon enough to be ex-husband, we will call him Brian, had a drinking problem  and to be honest, that was the biggest factor for the divorce. There is soooooo much more to that story but we will get back to that.  So, I gave my beautiful, loving grandmother a call and out the door I went with nothing but my 2 young sons and the clothes we had on our backs.  There was no looking back, my grandmother had told me in no uncertain terms that if I did look back, I would go back because I would feel sorry for Brian and this wasn't supposed to be about him this time.  She was right, she was always right! 

I suppose I should get on facebook and let people know about my new blog!  More to come guys......please stay tuned, have to go and do homework.

December 6th, 2011

Today, I fnally decided to start a Blog about cancer, the battle that I fight every single day.  I made this decision because I cannot finish my damn book and I think everyone should know certain things about this ugly disease. 

This morning I am going to a funeral, great way to start my day huh?  The woman that has lefft this earth has left due to CANCER.  She was bright, beautiful, and had a spirit that should have and very likely could have beat this illness that we, as a nation have yet to cure.

Please excuse my short post for the morning, my husband and I have to get ready to go and sit in a church and mourne for his cousin, my friend and co-soldier's passing.