Time Keeps on Slipping, Slipping....

For the most part the terminal thing doesn't bother me.  We are all going to die someday.  Just some

of us know it will be sooner rather than later.  To be honest, I'd prefer later.  Much, much later; but it seems later is a very relative term too.  Later to me would be measured in years rather than months.

You guessed it.  Today being terminal bothers me a bit.  There are actually several things that go into it bothering me today - well OK on the days it does bother me; they are not all that often but it happens.

For instance, time does fly.  Even when I am doing nothing.  Before I know it I am making dinner, feeding the dogs and deciding if I want to read or watch an hour or two of TV.  Seriously, I mean a day of nothing.  Vacuum, dishes, sit outside if it is nice.  If I decide to read - well there goes hours.  Another day gone.  Am I a day closer?  I don't know.  To be honest neither does the doctor, but considering that the tumors are growing on the aorta, on the left lung and in the intestine, well that just doesn't give me a warm fuzzy.

I am considered disabled because of the terminal cancer, and the side effects that the chemo causes.  I have really good days, and about a week to ten days of crap after chemo.  I'd love to be working, but I have that conundrum, should I be honest?  Usually things bite me in the rear when I don't do the right thing.

During interviews you do not have to give any health information.  But once you have a job offer, well, that is where things can get sticky.  To be honest, I totally understand it.  I mean do you tell them "Hey by the way now I am hired, I have to do chemo every 3 weeks, am sick for about 10 days after, need time off for doctor appointments, oh yeah CT scans, Echo cardiograms every 3 weeks, and there probably will be an occasional stay in the hospital.  Oh, and they say it is terminal."  Could you see the look on the face?  That would be one to take a picture of.  Not to mention I'd burst out laughing.  But I sort of miss working.  I had a game plan.  Monday through Friday was work.  Saturday and Sunday, field day the house and one project in the house.  Structure.  As crazy as it can make me, I had structure.  I have tried the schedule thing, yeah, I am not the best in the world at it.  But I keep trying.

Although if I do things right I could be constantly on the run - but I'd have to win the lottery for that, oh yeah, I have one ticket I need to check the numbers on.  Keep your fingers crossed.

Yes, I have done some amazing things in the past year and a half - give or take, but I'd rather not be

terminal.  I'd rather not have that in the back of my mind waiting to sneak out and tell me that the clock is ticking, get to living before you die.

I would trade it all, for a "normal" by my definition of life, more time with my family.  More time with Jim, Liz and Jasmine. More time to learn.  Learn what?  I don't know.  There is a whole world of knowledge out there, and I am trying to ingest some of it.

Chemo brain really sucks.  Things get in my brain, but get lost in there.  Remember when we went to France and Italy?  Here is an example of chemo brain.  I had been doing Italian language courses for a year, even before the cancer came back.  Basic beginner, I don't want to look like a total idiot tourist stuff.  What did I remember?  Bango.  BATHROOM.  Seriously.  That is it.  Still can't remember sh**!  Bango, bathroom, sh**.  Get it?  Where is your sense of  humor?

Right now every so often I get the little voice in my head - "Hurry up do this, do something, do that, face this fear, go here, go there, don't worry about finances, eat this, do that, hurry, hurry, hurry, you are wasting time.  You're going to die. Hurry!"

That voice can cause a paralysis.  What to do?  How do I get there?  What will it cost?  Where do I go?  Add that to the normal life things, paying for groceries, utilities and the such my head just gets crazy. Those questions run rampant in my head the days the little voice screams at me the end is near.

It is very easy (I have been very guilty of this) to allow oneself to become isolated and introverted.  It can be exhausting to be around people.  Not because of the chemo, but because sometimes people are exhausting.

For me it is easier to speak to a group of people than individuals.  Hard to believe?  It is true.  Well, as long as I could walk around.  Standing in one place may be a challenge.

When I went to the Intro to Kayaking I had all sorts of reasons why I should just stay home and skip it.  Really, some of them were good, some were from left field.  Why?  I don't know.  Perhaps it was because it was beyond my comfort zone.

Water aerobics is on the horizon.  I actually have a swimsuit I will wear. Tomorrow on the way back

from the mechanic (car is clunking left front, and a hum right rear wheels told you I have first world problems) I'll stop at the pool and see what the schedule is.  Classes at 10:00 would be nice.

I am not depressed.  I know what that feels like, I am just not liking things right now.  No, I am not sorry for  myself.  I will never be sorry for myself.  Cancer has taught me how strong I can be, and how amazing my family and friends are.

Ever see that movie "The Secrete Life of Walter Mitty"?  I am Walter.  I am that person who had gotten comfortable in my life working everyday, paying bills, squirrelling away a little nest egg (those things go fast by the way, so try to double your nest egg, don't learn the hard way you should have doubled it) being forced to face life and do things that I would only dream of and never do.  Only I keep realizing there is so much more I want to do - and time keeps on slipping, slipping.

I just don't want to have it end.

Face Your Fears

I know I know, it is easier said than done, but at least try!

To be honest, just about everything I have done on my "adventures" (including my day to day not so high pressure life - seriously, my stress factor is dust and dog hair and keeping the house looking clean).

It has been mentioned from time to time (OKAY, I harp on occasions) but it is something that needs to be revisited.

Let me explain something first.  To me there are fears and there are phobias.  A phobia to me is something that can literally paralyze you.  Okay, so they can be the same.  Just thinking about some of mine and how they affect me.  But a fear can be not doing something because you don't know how, or are afraid of looking foolish, or meeting new people.

When I decided to jump out of a perfectly good plane, for example.  There was fear.  No doubt about it.  But not so much that it paralyzed me.  So I  jumped.  Guess what?  It was amazing.

I have issues with meeting new people too. I am uncomfortable.  Yes, I have trust issues.  I feel awkward, out of my element.  What is my element?  My home.  My Kindle. The library.  So going and doing new things requires me to actually push myself.   I am a great actress.  Most people say I look like I am comfortable with new folk.  I try.

Trust me, I can talk myself out of doing something very easily, and stay in my "safe" bubble.

That brings me to phobias.  Yes, you can overcome them, and work on it.  Depending on what it is, you may be able to go it alone, or get a little help from your friends.

For example.  Spiders.  I hate, hate, hate, hate them.  Bugs too for the record (some more than others).  When you live on your own, you have to learn to deal with them.  I am not totally fine with spiders, but now I can smash them to smithereens with something.  Or spray the insecticide on them.  I don't like it, and my stomach flops after I am done, even can have the shakes, but I am not as bad as before.  Trust me, there are some that I will not deal with and run, screaming like a little girl to get a way from, and find someone else to kill the spider or bug.  Just looking at pictures of them creeps me out so bad I get nauseated.

Haven conquered the fear, but I have gotten better.

Now onto the big one.  One that I can panic from.  I am terrified of water above my head.  I mean, when I first started this venture, full tilt panic.  But I like the water, it is peaceful when not storming - so go figure.

I started facing the water fear four years ago?  I made a dream trip to Bali.  I always wanted to scuba dive somewhere the water is clear.  I can swim underwater, so of, go figure.  I never said this made any sort of logical sense.  My swimming ability has been drastically reduced since they removed the left hamstring.  I never realized how useful the hamstring was in swimming until I tried.  OH, yeah, I have been afraid of the water since I was around 10.  Nearly drown.  Yes, after that I learned to swim, but it didn't help much.

The instructor was really understanding.  I wouldn't call what we did diving, but I got into the clear ocean, when down a few feet, came up, went down a few more feet, came up, did that probably five or six times before panic starting edging in.  The water being so clear was a help I believe.

I also dislike smaller boats.  I am afraid they will flip, and I'll be in deep water that is murky and can't see in.  Paddle boats aren't too bad, they seem harder to flip over.  Canoes on the other hand. Well....

One of the times I was visiting New Orleans, Jim, Liz, and I went to City Park.  They didn't have any kayaks, but they had canoes.  Jim and I had one, Liz I believe got the last kayak.

I had a death grip on the sides of the canoe.  But gradually I relaxed, and started taking pictures.  Oh, there were a couple times I grabbed back on the boat with that death grip, but I made it.

Today I got into a kayak.  They had an intro to kayaking for seniors, so I signed up for it.  I made myself get up at 06:00 to go.  Took care of the dogs, made coffee, grabbed a sandwich for a snack.  I was set.  Got into the car, my mind started coming up with all the reasons why I SHOULDN'T do this.  All I could think of was the kayak flipping over and me being stuck underwater.  OR just flipping it and being embarrassed.

Gritting my teeth, I  drove to Curtis Lake Park.  There were a total of seven people there for the class, everyone else had been in a kayak before, on vacation or with rentals.  They wanted a better idea of the right way to kayak.

They had us all introduce ourselves and explain why we had taken the class.  It was my turn. "Hi, I am Jean Lee, and I am here to face one of my fears. I have never been in a kayak before."

To say getting in was a bit awkward puts it very politely, but I got in and didn't flip it.

The one volunteer could tell I was a bit apprehensive, and she talked me through a couple of things.  I finally relaxed (still had a death grip on the paddle) but I was able to stop and just be.  Whenever I got antsy, I stopped, breathed and was just there.

Rowing got a bit frustrating for me.  I rowed like a drunken sailor.  After awhile, I was doing it decently, and could feel the difference in the kayak movement, but as soon as I realized I was rowing correctly, I lost the rhythm.

Would I do it again?  Yes.  Would I still be afraid?  Yes.  There is a trip they are doing Tuesday from Crows Nest, and if I didn't have to get my stuff together and packed for Adult Summer Camp, I'd go.  Yes, I pack and unpack just so I can Tetris everything into the smallest space possible.

Come to think of it, I will be doing this again at Adult Summer Camp.  There is even beginner rapids.

What fear have you faced?  It doesn't have to be a big huge effort.  Sometimes, just the act of a person walking out the front door is facing a fear.  For some females, walking out the door with no makeup on is terrifying.

So what little fear have you faced today.

Hearing "You have cancer", and a Burning Question at the End of this.

To be honest I laugh about it now, and to be honest, I laughed about it then too.  Then is the first time I was told I had cancer back in 2003.  Come to think of it, every time they told me it was back, didn't freak out either.  I don't think that is normal.  Could I be off my rocker?  Well, I don't own a rocker so yeah, I could be.  But I don't think so.

I mean really, in reality I already knew.  A lump on the back of my left thigh grew from a golf ball size to about a cantaloupe well, it is kinda obvious.  Then having the manager of the store you are working at notice your leg because the left pant leg was getting tighter on the thigh helped, she actually threatened me!!  She told me if I didn't go see a doctor the next morning (I worked 2nd shift) I shouldn't bother coming in until I saw a doctor and had a note from them!

Well, me being me, and just getting insurance, I got my fat butt to the Urgent Care on York Road.  They told me put one of those wonderful gowns on, and when the doctor came in she asks, in a rather bored, condescending tone - "What is the matter?  How can I help you?" I just stood up and showed her the left thigh, OMG, when I turned around I was looking in a mirror, and her face just dropped. "You need a specialist.  We will find one in your network and make the appointment for you as soon as possible."  Well, if that doesn't all that doesn't give you a clue nothing will.

No, I didn't cry or scream or ask "why me", each time I asked, "OK, what are we going to do, when do we start, don't sugar coat crap, and be honest.  I don't need the kid gloves treatment."

Luckily, all of the doctors I have and had understand where I am coming from.  I have no idea where I get my tenacity or strength as some people call it from.

Don't get me wrong, chemo is awful.  Even the "milder" chemo that people can take orally have side effects.  The antibody chemo I was on gave me 5 or 6 days of exhaustion right off the bat, killed the taste buds, nausea.  Still killed the bone marrow so red blood cell production was down,  white cell too.  Never mind it let the cancer spread.

The current chemo Yolandis (from the sea sponge) is every three weeks, and it takes a week to 10 fays to get back to an "almost" normal.  Side effects that get to me are rapid heart beat, like a pounding in your chest when you do just about anything, and interferes with breathing.  Sucks having sound like I ran a mile just walking up a set of stairs.

Right now I feel great.  My doctor changed my schedule to every 6 weeks rather than every 3.  Mainly just for the summer so I can enjoy as much of it as possible, and stay out of the hospital.  Though those two pints of blood may have just helped my system out a bit too.

Radiation in 2003 sucked a$$.  The burn on the back of my leg was purple, oozed, and burned.  I learned the hard way that Solarcaine does nothing but make the burn worse on radiation burns.  Trust me.

I dreaded having to get radiation in 2011 because it was on the sternum, bra and the such rubbing a radiation burn.  Guess what?  They improved how radiation is given and they can pinpoint it now.  My burn was the size of a dime!!

A challenge has been given me several times, and my response is "I will not go quietly into the night."

Now here is the oddity for me.  Whenever I have cancer, my nails grow.  I mean nails I can put polish on and have people compliment.  I do house work and do not baby my hands, but I have nails!  Every time I had cancer, my nails are awesome till I get tired of them and cut them off and they grown right back.

So why do my nails grow so well when I am given such nasty drugs?  And why when I am healthy, not on chemo are my nails always breaking off or not growing?

I mean really!!

Walking Through the Past - or Stupid Shit I Believed

Dealing with cancer gives you the opportunity to walk down memory lane, perhaps more than any one person would want to.  It can make you remember some of the oddest things, and make you say, "Huh, maybe that has a bit to do with how I am".

Now, I am not going to get into the "feel sorry for me"  or the "abused" story.  Life was not easy for my brothers or sisters, nor myself.  But that is past, and I have come to terms, a sort of peace if you will.  My parents did the best they could considering their lives, I determined to do better and end cycles.  Now I understand where some of my issues came from.  I have  no problems speaking about my past, but it is a different conversation.

BUT you know the stupid shit we were told, that some of us believed, now that is another story!!  So is the stupid shit we did.

I have not a clue what made me think of some of this, maybe part of it is trying to find the family tree.  It is spider webbing out in a couple of directions, but as far as my father's family, it is stagnant.

OK, I freely admit my parents were "older" (Dad 55 and mom 35) and raised with different values, hence, I have had some values I needed to re-learn over the years.  Trust me it has taken years for some.

What am I talking about?  How about that old saying "A woman's place is in the home."  Yeah, I was raised with that one.  Seriously.  I learned to cook really young.  I remember being 5 and scrambling eggs. I still have issues with eggs to this day.  They have to be just about "perfect" (my idea of perfect" before I can eat them.  A little brown on them?  NOPE.  A little bit of the egg white kind of jelly like slime?  ABSOLUTELY NOT!  Brown on an over medium egg?  NO.  Over hard?  Nope.  Over medium if you please, not a speck of brown on the edges, yolk perfect for dunking, and absolutely no snotty white.

I learned to cook, and to clean.  Do laundry.  I learned how to iron clothing, and how to not put too much starch.  I was being raised to be little Suzy Homemaker.  Never could get the hang of gardening though.  But in my defense, when my mom thought learning how to grow vegetables was a good thing, I had no interest.  To be honest, neither did she.  They just opened Neff Pool, a public pool for the neighborhood.  I'd rather be in the water in the summer.  Thank you very much!

So getting back to the "woman's place is in the home" thing.  My parents didn't believe that an education was all that important.  In elementary school, I wasn't allowed to do homework.  That was fine by me, I hated it.  All the teachers were really old, older than I am now, and one of them farted lots.  I remember her being bent over helping one student her butt all near this kid's face and she let one go.  He threw up.

I was a Tom Boy.  I climbed trees, rode my "English Racer" bike at top speed trying to stand on the handle bars (yeah, that didn't work out too well, but it didn't stop me either).  I wanted to play base ball with the boys.  I collected baseball cards.  My dad would show me things in the car engine.  But all that time I was still learning the how to be a good housewife stuff. Hell, my Dad taught me to fight.  I was to defend my younger sister and brother, and if  I was in a fight - I better damn well have won.

In Junior High, Margaret Spellacy, the dress code changed.  (Yes there was a dress code, and girls could not wear pants at all.  Only dresses and skirts)  Girls were allowed to wear JEANS!!  Can you say HEAVEN?  Dress shirts, but jeans!!!!

From that day forward, I wore only jeans.  Until one day in high school, my mom threw out all my jeans.  I needed to start acting like a "lady" and dress that way.  (Don't worry, I ended up with jeans again)

Back on track, no being encouraged for college was not on the table.  Hell, it was a HUGE deal I graduated high school!  I was encouraged to become a "legal" secretary.  Why the hell a legal secretary I have no idea, I wanted nothing to do with law. You do remember that "Tom Boy" thing?  Never really grew out of it.  Parents couldn't beat it out of me either - I mean come on really?  Remember the teaching me to fight?

I was encouraged to do, become a secretary.  At the ripe old age of 17 I was entering the work force as a secretary.  Do your job, get your boss's coffee, don't complain, meet your husband, stop working when you have a baby, and have another baby.  Let's just say I was very conflicted.

I always had a problem with that coffee thing. But here is what I was ALWAYS told:

"SECRETARIES SHOULD LOOK LIKE LADIES.  LOOK LIKE  MODELS.  WEAR MAKEUP ALL THE TIME.  NEVER WEAR PANTS, DRESSES AND SKIRTS." Oh yeah, I didn't swear around my parents.  But...….

Do you know what kind of crap that is?  I actually did that too!  Perfect make up every day.  I did that crap for years.  Hell, I worked at a place where if a female had short hair she wouldn't get promoted.  When I bought work clothes they were always business dressy. Neat, simple lines.  Looked good.

God I can see me as a 17 year old in my first couple of jobs.  Naïve as all get out too, seriously you can be naïve and have common sense, or at least there were time I did.  I got fired from a job because I laughed and joked with the installers.  Never mind it was in front of everyone.  Nothing inappropriate either.  But I have had jobs where I was made uncomfortable because of the double standard of behavior.  My answer?  Quit without notice as soon as you find another job, or just quit.  Then damage the car and not get caught.

If I had encouragement to go to college out of high school, would I have?  Probably.  Did I know what I wanted out of life?  Hell to the no.  What 17 year old does.  Oh, and the only reason I waited till I was 17 to graduate was if I had graduated at 16 I would have needed a work permit and could only work part time.  Besides, who the hell would higher a 16 year old for a job with benefits?

If I could change things would I?  ABSOLUTELY NOT!!  All that has happened to me in the past, the good, the bad, the horrid made me who I am.  All the stuff that made those scars I wear so proudly made me.

It has been a long road to get to who I am today, and I really actually like myself.  In fact I love myself.  You have to be able to love yourself and value yourself before you can truly love and value others.  Oh, and that includes having cancer.  I would not change having it.  It truly has been a double edged sword.

On one hand it has taught me I am stronger than I know.  I have more friends than I realized.  That my children love me, even when I was broken they loved me.  It has also taught me I cannot go through this alone.  I need you all.  I am grateful for you all.

The other hand, it has shown my weakness.  I have a hard time with that.  It has shown me I cannot always be strong for everyone.  I cannot always hold my head up and fight or jump on the white charger and save the world.  Which I have a hard time with.  Such a hard time I hide.  I withdraw.  I am learning not to be such a ninny, but it will take work.



So what stupid shit were you told?  What did you believe?  Would you change it?

Musings, this that and da other thing

Jasmine, Jim, me

Had a CT scan, two weeks ago?  Maybe less.  Probably less, I tend to forget since it seems they are a common part of my life.  Two weeks, before Mother's Day.  I saw the doctor the Friday after.

It was an interesting visit.  The staff is all excited about me being able to do the Epic Experiences camp in Colorado ?

Plain and simple.  No.

I fell in love with the Rocky Mountains thanks to John Denver's music. There is just something about Rocky Mountain High that connected with me.  Just like his song Calypso.

Now  here is the strange part. I fell in love with John Denver's music because of a 1972 movie.  Sunshine.  A story of a young woman, who ended up with cancer in her leg (not sure if it is the right of left but if it was the left - we are getting in a really "cosmic" area".)  She started chemo, but didn't like what it did to her.  She wouldn't let them amputate, so she made her choice of death. Her husband, musician sang the music.

Now on to the discussion with Doctor Vaughn on Friday.  We were talking normal stuff, energy level, side effects.  How I feel otherwise.  He told me that I keep surprising him.  That is a really good thing.  He expected me to be on hospice care now.

Jasmine, me, Liz

That made me start thinking.  Maybe wanting to try to squeeze as much living in the time I have is helping?  Although I freely admit, I didn't do one damn adventure during the winter.  I hate being cold.  But if I am still around this coming winter and I have the means I will change that.  Maybe the girls and I can drive the south if I can afford it, and my 2004 Malibu is willing.  (Everyone post a number in comments, I will play them.  I have my monthly $3 for a lottery ticket waiting!)

I guess this whole thing is pretty damn serious.  I mean,  he really thought I would be in hospice!!  I would be dying, letting go of the hold I have on this life.  Maybe he thought the side effects would have beaten me to the point I would say enough.

It hasn't, but we are changing my chemo schedule to every 6 weeks, and those treatment will be around my bucket list schedule.  Seriously, he feels the same as I do.  I may as well enjoy as much as life as I can while I can.  Besides, all the chemo is for is to try to slow it down so I can enjoy it when I feel good.

Last May?  June?  July?  His best guess was 12 to 18 months.  Well that would leave 6 give or take, and considering he thought I'd be in hospice currently I think he actually thought less.

Currently my updated expiration is <12 months.  I'll take it.  I am looking at it as I have at least another 12 months to be the bane of everyone's existence. Maybe a bit longer if I play my cards right.
I choose to look at it this way, the best I can do is get more than 12 months.  The worst is anything less than 6.  I am shooting for more.

Besides, it is his best guess, and it seems I have proven  him wrong.

Liz, me, Jasmine

Why I Don't Look Up to Celebrities Who have/had Cancer

I really shouldn't watch some TV shows.  Why?  They make me think more.  They make me question.

Well, what does that have to do with the title of this?

Celebrities have money.  Rich and famous people.  I don't wish cancer on anyone, but I would rather hear about the construction worker making ends meet, dealing with cancer, or the mom that over comes cancer and still goes on.  People like me.

People going through things I have and beating it.  That gives me inspiration.  Not some famous actor or actress that gets paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to do a show or movie.  Not some rich Silicone Valley big wig, or even anyone on Congress.

It was either 60 minutes or 48 hours, they did a segment on cancer.  It was a fluke I ended up watching it.  Actually, I have seen a few stories along these lines.

The story was basically about treatments available, insurance, and money.  The all mighty green back.  The bane of the terminally ill.

They did a few interviews.  One was a normal person, like you or I.  Worried about how they are going to pay bills, insurance, co payments.  The hope was dim.

The other family was rich.  Their son has cancer.  Being treated at the best hospital.  The reporter asked how they were dealing with their son's cancer.   Does having money help?  Their answer?  Yes it does.  It opens more avenues of treatment. It allows for better treatment.  It gives more hope.

Huh, even they realize it.  So I'll pass on the celebrities, and admire folks like me.  Folk I can identify with.  Don't get me wrong, celebrities can help with education, some people will only listen to them.  But me, I'm for the "normal" guy.  Let me hear their stories.

Then I got caught up with a show called The Resident.  Yeah, it played right into the if you have money you have a better chance.

I would highly recommend catching up on the show.  It is a show that is more than the normal hospital shows.  It gets into some of the politics of hospitals, like insurance company issues, how much per bed they want to make, shady dealings, you have to watch it.  Many different layers.

This one isn't very well written, but hopefully it gets you thinking too.

What does Terminal Look Like?

I am in a very interesting position.  I have cancer and I am terminal.  Yes, it is.  It is amazing to my how many people have preconceived ideas on what a terminal cancer patient should look like. Or for that matter what a cancer patient looks like.

There are many of us that do not fit those preconceived ideas, we almost look normal.  Whatever normal is. I don’t fit into any of those preconceived ideas.

What do I mean preconceived?  Well here are a few thing I have people tell me.

People who have cancer and are getting chemotherapy are bald. 

No.  Absolutely not.  Chemotherapy drug are harsh.  They kill cells.  Both healthy and cancerous.  But not all people go bald.  In fact, there are some therapies put into use right now that actually help the patient keep their hair.  It is cold therapy.  Not everyone is able to use it, and it may not work for as well for every patient.  But for those who losing their hair would be horrifying, it gives them options.  Some people only have their hair thin out.  One year my eyelashes fell out along with all my hair.  That was hard to deal with.  I like my eyes.  My eyelashes are my vanity.

That was my experience with the antibody chemo therapy - thinning hair.  I hated it.  I’d rather be bald.  I kept my hair buzzed. To me it is better to be bald rather than have balding spots or thinning hair. 

All cancer patients are always sick and vomiting or at least nauseated.

When I went through cancer in 2003 I would have said this is the truth.  But over the years they have made huge leaps in anti-nausea drugs. 

Don’t get me wrong.  We still, well not everyone, but I still get nauseated.  But the anti-nausea drugs work wonders.  There are even what they call “break through” anti-nausea drugs.  Basically, they are a medication you take when your normal medication does not stop the nausea, and you feel like vomiting up dinner from last year.

Cancer patients don’t eat. 

Well, the further on in your chemo, some may not want to eat.  Some don’t eat early on because of sores that can developed in the mouth and throat.   Believe me when we feel like eating, we eat.  Mainly because we know there are those days we don’t feel like it, or will feel like crap.

I have days when every couple of hours I am eating something.   Doesn’t matter to me healthy food or not.  Calories.  That is all I am trying to get into my system. I know there will be days I don’t want to eat, or eat very little.  So, when I can I do.  My body will store it and when I need it I will have it.  Unfortunately, there never is enough stored.  

In fact, once this is published, I am going to have pumpkin pie.

All cancer patients are extremely thin. 

Um.  No.  Depending on the treatment, and the amount of steroids given.  Yes.  Steroids are routinely given to cancer patients.  Helps with some of the side effects.  Unfortunately, because of the different body types and reactions, some people swell up.  For those patients it is heart breaking.  I have no idea why it happens.  It just does.  

Not all patients are deathly thin either.  Some may get to that point later in treatment.  But not all.  Everything depends on the drugs used (if they treat with drugs) and again the body’s reaction.

All cancer patients are tired all the time. 

Well, there is some truth in that.  But not 100% of the time.  Depending on the chemotherapy, and cycle, a patient can feel exhausted one week, tired the next, and almost normal the following.

One of my treatments a few years ago was the MAIDS treatment.  Chemo for a week, then two weeks off during which I received radiation therapy.  First week I felt like crap, second better.  When the time for chemo came around again, I felt pretty normal.  Later maybe cycle 4 or 5 I would be tired.  Exhausted all the time by cycle 6.

Terminal patients look like the dead walking. 

Well, maybe nearing the end, and some prior to but not all.  Just because I don't look half dead doesn't mean a thing.

Cancer patients are sick all the time or should always wear masks and stay away from everyone.

Not all the time.  We are more susceptible to getting sick if the chemotherapy kills off our white cells, or interferes with the production of the red blood cells,

Usually when that happens, we end up in the hospital, but not all the time.  A couple of times my blood counts were way down, but I felt fine, even felt almost "normal". 

When the blood counts are normal for the most part we are normal.

Cancer patients are always depressed.

No.  Not all the time.  Yes, there are times we get depressed.  It is only normal.  It gets tiring having blood taken, running to the doctor, treatments, hospital visits, MRIs, CT Scans and the such.  

I prefer to laugh and go out and enjoy life, but yes, even I get depressed once in awhile.

I am terminal.  For six months I received anti-body chemo therapy. Every other week. My hair got thinned out, so I buzz cut it.  I’d feel good the day after. But then for about three days I’d be tired.  The further along in the cycles, the longer the tiredness lasted.  Lack of appetite usually comes from the way chemo affected the taste buds.  Everything ends up feeling yuk, and tasteless.

We have changed my chemo to Yolendes.  Sea sponge derivative.  I have had one cycle.  I get chemo for 24 hours.  I go home with a working pump, go back the next day and have it removed.  The day after I feel good.  Again, those steroids.  The third day I start feeling, sick.  Like a cold or flu.  Then it gets worse for about three or four days.  Gets better after that.  Exhaustion so bad that getting out of bed is a feat in itself.  Eating?  No thank you.  Drinking?  Sipping water every so often but not enough.

Chemo affects the production of white blood cells.  When I was on the Anti-body I got Neulasta.    I prefer the Neaulasta and its issues to the shots.  Nupegen shots burn like hell.

They skipped my second round of chemo with the sea sponge.  Because the chemo made my white cells crash.  If you do not have a good blood count, they don’t do chemo.  They would be endangering your life if they did.  I assume it is the same way with all chemo.

I spent a few days in the hospital because of pneumonia, and it was after chemo.  The doctors at the ER were spazzing out  because my counts kept dropping.  I kept telling them it was the chemo treatment.  They finally decided that a blood transfusion would be a good idea.  They actually do help.  Bumps up the red count.  

I get told you can’t be terminal.  You look good.  Your skin is in good shape.  You don’t look sick.  I have had three weeks to recover from that treatment, so I look better.  The further into treatment I get the longer the side effects will last, and I will end up fitting that image people have of terminal. Well, maybe.

But I plan on doing things my way.  Treatment is to slow the cancer, or keep it in place.  It won’t cure it.  I am going for the quality of life.  If the chemo lets the cancer spread.  We are onto the next one.  If the time spent recovering becomes longer, or my system starts crashing and I end up in the hospital more, the treatment changes. Or I just stop chemo totally.  Boy, then I will end up fitting that image.

Please, just because a cancer patient doesn’t look like a dead man walking, don’t assume they are lying, or exaggerating.  Just because we laugh, and joke and look strong, don’t assume.  Cancer patients are great actors and actresses.  I know.