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?

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.

The Adventures of Yondelis, the sea sponge chemo

Actually I finished cycle two.  The first cycle I thought I felt so crappy because of being exhausted.  Nope.  This time it kicked my ass.

I got hooked up on Thursday Oct.5, went home with my buddy the pump, felt ok, Friday felt normal.  Went about my day, got the pump taken off.

Got up Saturday, and felt a bit yucky, but wanted to check out Toastmasters.  You know push the comfort zone thing.  I didn't make it through the whole thing.

About 15 minutes after I got there, I started feeling dizzy, and nausea kicked in hard.  Went and sat in the refreshment room, downed some Zofran, still felt like crap.  As soon as I felt ok enough to drive home, I did.

I spent three day in bed.  If it weren't for the dogs, I would have just stayed in bed.  I would get up let them out, back to bed, get up feed them, back to bed.  And I had to really push myself to do that.  My body was beyond exhausted.  I was sipping water which just nauseated me.

When I did get up, I to let the girls out, I'd open a can of soup, drain the broth into a cup, warm it, sip it, and leave the cup and can on the counter.  Seriously disgusting for me. 

I'd wake up and say I have to get up; my body said like hell.  I'd fall back to sleep, just to be on the hamster wheel.  I finally felt ok enough to get to CVS and get some ginger ale (craving it like crazy), pedalyte, and Gatorade.  I was getting dehydrated. 

Finally able to keep fluids down, I started sipping as much as I could at one time.  Trying to increase it a little every time I took a couple of drinks.

I saw my doctor yesterday, we are going to stay the course with it.  After the third cycle, we'll see if the sarcomas are being kept in check or if they are spreading.  If they are in check, we will reduce the dose a bit to try to ease the side effects.

The joy I have to look forward to Oct. 26 or is it the 27th?

As the Chemo Drips

So much for posting an update quickly.  I just posted the update I did two weeks ago and sent the copy to my sister.  Yeah, I'm efficient like that.

First, let me explain something.  The fatigue that is caused by the drops in red cell count is telling.  It effects everything.  Your mood, thought process, your out look.  Not that I have had a negative out look, just getting tired of somethings.

I tend to be a bit more cynical and critical when I am tired.  A bit bitchier too.  What can I say - at least I am honest about it.

Life isn't perfect, hell, even when I am healthy it isn't, but it is my life.  To be honest, I was hoping never to have to go through chemo or surgery ever again.  But alas, that is not to be my fate.

One of the things that bother me is the fact this tumor is inoperable.  So chemo is my only choice.  It is on the heart and part of the left lung.  Well, I can't live without a heart or lung, so yeah, I'd say inoperable.

In the past I had chemo then surgery to get the tumors.  Or just surgery when the tumor was found soon enough.  No chemo when you have great margins.  Oh, and radiation in combo with the other two.  This time, there is only one.  Chemo.  What happens if the Navutro doesn't work?  There are other possible therapies.  But no guarantees on any of them.

One of the things I dislike is the, unknowing.  OK, is this making a difference?  Really, how do you tell except when the whole treatment is done and there are scans and xrays.   I had to have an echo cardiogram done Monday.  The chemo drug they are using with the Navutro causes damage to the heart, (remember in 2003 the Cleveland Clinic used another drug that damages the heart.  They used the maximum allowed for a life time) I was watching and you could see a difference in the texture on the bottom of the heart versus an area a the top.  They also used Doppler to show the blood going through the valves.  Color determined what was going in and what was going out.  I haven't heard anything, so I am going to assume no news is good news.

Admittedly, I do like the chemo schedule.  Once a week.  Two weeks treatment, one week off, two weeks treatment, one week off, you get the picture.  That one week no chemo gives your body a chance to try to recover.  Not long enough for mine.

I am tired.  So if I sound a bit negative, don't get in a panic.  If I get a bit over emotional, don't panic, I am tired.  Another 45 minutes and I am out of here.  I may stop for lunch somewhere.  I am craving sushi.

And before you all start, "You shouldn't eat sushi while going through chemo".  I know that.  So does every other patient that goes through this.  But you know what?  I'm eating it anyway.  I am past the point of giving a fuck about what I eat. 

In reality, I am going to die.  Maybe not this time, maybe not the next time but it will happen.  So, why should I not eat things I enjoy?  What is it going to do to me that cancer hasn't? 

If I were rich money wise, I'd be driving and flying all over the United States visiting friends, coming back for chemo, and setting off again.  I'd go to Tuscany and tour the vineyards, and eat lots of good food, go to Utah, New Mexico and where ever the winds blows.  But I'm not rich, so I can't.  but if they ever tell me I am terminal.  I am going to Tuscany, and a few other places.

I think I'll nap for the last bit of chemo.  I am tired.

Fatigue - Or a Little "Whine" with that?

I know, it is past time for an update.  My sister has been asking me for one so she can post it to the GoFundMe campaign she started to help me.  So, I am going to update my blog and send her a copy of this.  It isn’t that I don’t appreciate all the help and want to let people know what is happening, sometimes it is just hard to share some of the things that go through my mind as things progress.

You see, if I am being truthful, not only am I updating folks on the progress with the chemo, but the other issues, like emotional, and the such.  Sometimes it is really hard to put things into words.  Oh, there are times that I am very eloquent and can express what I am thinking but unfortunately many of those times are when I do not have access to put them down.  Well, at least they sound good in my head.

Right now, I am tired.  Physically and emotionally. Frustrated.  Oh, so frustrated.  I am tired of fighting the system.  I applied for SSI, was turned down because I had a total of $2000.00 sitting in the bank.  I applied for disability.  Got turned down because I am working.  I asked how am I supposed to pay for my insurance if I don’t work? Rent?  Food? Utilities? What I make doesn’t cover.  I am a penny pincher to the max, so I am not living above my means.

To be honest I want to work.  I want a job.  I want benefits.  But I am getting so tired of the hunt.  I won’t give up.  I’m still looking and will continue to do so.

Emotionally, I am tired of fighting. I am tired of fighting the system.  I am tired of fighting cancer.  I just want a normal life, go to work, save a little bit, travel once in a while, and retire.  I don’t want to keep working till I die, and I am so tired of cancer.  I am tired of living with it, I am tired of having so many doctors, I am tired of the chemo killing me.  Did you know that the drug they use in conjunction with the Lartruvo is damaging my heart?  That is on top of what was done in 2003.  I’ll be going in for an echo cardiogram with a Doppler to check my heart.

Even with that, there is no guarantee that the cancer will be gone until the next time.  What happens if it isn’t gone?  A different type of chemo.  If that doesn’t work?  A different type of chemo.  Who knows clinical trials. Remember it is inoperable.  Has something to do with the location, you know, the heart thing.  Even if it is gone, how long until the next time?  I had it removed from my lung April 2016, it was back in November.  Yes, it wasn’t officially diagnosed until January.  But you get the idea, six months.  The time frame between was only six months.

So far, the chemo is going well, I suppose.  I say it that way because I haven’t landed in the hospital with a crashed immune system.  Most of the side effects have been fatigue, headache, nausea, loss of appetite, I am losing the sense of taste, which really sucks.  The hair is slowly falling out, but the regrowth of the leg hair is so minimal it is nice not to have to shave for a change. 

I’ve lost weight.  I check my weight every couple of days, and weigh myself in the morning about the same time.  I am down to 107 pounds.  I do try to eat.  But it just isn’t sticking.  That and the cold I picked up somewhere isn’t helping.  I am being very cautious of that, don’t need pneumonia.  Maybe that is why I have been craving soups.  Hot soup.  Well, that and liver and onions.  Hot soup with the steam helps, and it warms me up.  The liver, probably because the iron is low.

The fatigue is the worst.  Well, after the loss of the sense of taste.  Last Friday, I woke up feeling great, full of energy, and felt good.  Which was surprising since I had chemo the day before.  Felt that way most of the day, even went out to dinner with Jim, and Nate.  Saw Logan.  Good movie, it ended two story lines, in a good way.

Unfortunately, most mornings I do not wake up like that.  I am tired and cold.  I am always cold. I get going and get to work, feeling ok.  Even think about going to the grocery store.  But usually by the time I leave work, I don’t feel like trying to shop.  I just want to go home, make some hot tea and put on warm fuzzy clothes.

I am down to one job now.  I was working seven days a week.  The last blood test showed my immune system starting to lower itself, so after some discussion, I told the winery that I wouldn’t be working there for a while.  It is the one place I was exposed to lots of people, kids (they have a play room there and a fantastic bistro).  Being a hospitality service, people show up to work sick since the only way to make money is through tips.  My other job, I see three people in the day.  So, not as much exposure.  Sad thing is between the two jobs together, I don’t meet the roof over the head, insurance and utilities.  I need to find a new job.

On the up side, I got to cross something off my bucket list.  Seeing New Orleans during Carnival.  I wasn’t there for Mardi Gras, but the party leading up to it can be just as fun.

I had enough miles built up on a credit card for an economy round trip to NOLA.  The ride down was lousy, kid sitting on her parent’s lap, kicking the back of my seat.  Spent a week with my son, going to parades and eating.  At least I had a sense of taste then.  It was fun, and I really enjoyed the Chewbacchus Parade.  Basically, it was a Com a Con parade. 

Ok, I am done whining and I am going back to work. 

It has been awhile - Dance five complete, Dance six to start

Well, the last time I posted, it was to explain my arm tattoo.  Since then, spring 2015 they found a tumor in the left lung.  You know my good lung. 

It was decided that they would do surgery (separate the ribs, remove the tumor), if good margins were obtained, no chemo.  They chose to take this route since the last time I had chemo it nearly kill me.  Well they got good margins!  Surgery on Monday, back to work on Wednesday. 

Well since then the contract I had a job under at the Marine Base ended, so I became unemployed.  But I have Cobra, for now.  October, a small spot showed on the CT Scan.  They thought it was a small pocket of fluid, and opted to watch.

November I started having issues breathing.  Like a weight on my chest.  Some days it was worse than others.  Thanksgiving was spent in New Orleans with my kids, and it seemed OK, so I figured that maybe I had just had a chest cold or something.  Once I got home, one day it would be OK, the next it wouldn't.

It kept getting worse, and finally after a rough weekend, I figured on Monday I'd call my Family Doctor, and be told I had walking Pneumonia.  Well, Monday I felt OK, not perfect but a little better.  Tuesday, I felt crappy, so I called.  Talking to the appointment clerk, she transferred me to the nurse, I told her I was having a hard time breathing, a weight on my chest.  Well, she said go to the Fredericksburg Office to their urgent care, me, I figured, I'd just drive to the hospital near me.  Only a few miles away, and I would be able to drive home.  Yeah. 

The ER doctor came in and the "fluid" area was larger.  They wanted to keep me and have radiology put a drain in the lung.  OK. After that he came in and tells me that they are going to transfer me to Mary Washington Hospital because they are better equipped to handle my issue, and possible complication.  (Translation, my doctors wanted me closer, and the hospital is considered a trauma center).

I met one of the Oncology doctors mine works with, he tells me that they will be following, and talking to the Tumor Board about me the next day.  He started talking about Antibody treatment and newer just approved by the FDA treatments.  I just dismissed it.  All my doctors track me. If one knows something, they are in communication.

Well they put the drain in and no fluid really came out.  After a couple days of it, I talked to my Thoracic Surgeon, they want to drain it surgically, me - I am ready to agree to anything as long as I can breath without an elephant on my chest.

Fast forward to after surgery.  Talked to the doctor, he said there really wasn't fluid in the lung but pockets on the lung and attached to the heart.  Me not really thinking anything worse, cool, I can breath.  He got everything he could, and sent it out to several labs for biopsy.  Everything they take out of me goes for biopsy.

January 7th.  The surgeon is back in town, at 8:00 AM, I get a call from him.  Do you have time to talk?  Sure! I say in my normal upbeat voice.  Then he drops the bomb.  The cancer is back.  All the doctors know.

January 13th.  I had a follow up appointment with the surgeon who did the Whipple, and removed the tumor from my leg.  We chatted (yes he already knew)  He asks me what plans do I have?  Well I want to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but that schedule hinges on treatment, and I'd really like to go to Tuscany, see the Rockies, the Grand Canyon.  I want to take a helicopter ride over it and a donkey ride into the canyon if they still do that.  He told me do it.  Don't let the treatment interfere with doing it.  OH OH.  When a doctor says that, it is time to be a bit concerned.

Well, I went to the Oncologist office after that, yeah, it is back, it is attached to the heart. 
Me:  OK, so now what?
Doc:  It is inoperable.
Me:  Oh.  So translate.
Doc:  Stage IV, inoperable.
Me:  OK, so what is next?
DOC:  Antibody treatment, just approved by the FDA, but it is approved with only Adriamycin.  Which you had the entire amount allowed.  Anymore would damage your heart.  But there are alternatives to it; the insurance company will have to approve it.

He wanted to start this week, but everything needs approved by the insurance company.  I have a CT scan scheduled Friday to see what it looks like.  They need to try to "Router Rooter" my port, and if they can't, replace it.  But it all depends on the insurance approval.

Now since I am unemployed, I have Cobra.  But my Cobra runs out in March, so in order to get insurance and covered during the Open Enrollment (pre-existing conditions) So, I have an ACA policy that kicks in in February.  So one insurance company will approve anything in January, and it will all have to be redone in February. 

So I will be shelling out for out of pocket and deductibles on two policies.  But at least I won't have to meet the $5500 on Cobra, and the $7000 on the new insurance.  Very confusing.

But I am a bit frustrated.  I work two part time jobs.  Between the two I bring in about $930 a month.  More than unemployment, and living off my savings while looking for a job. 

ACA said I make too little for a tax credit. 

Yes, I am still looking for a job.

The Story of a Tattoo

Phoenix in process by Robert V. Black Dragon Tattoo, Urban Md

I was chatting on the phone last night with a friend (yes, me on the phone AFTER work! Amazing isn't it?) She asked me a very good question, (this isn't her exact words but hopefully close)  Why would you get cancer tattooed on you?  What about all the prayers and family and friends that helped and supported?  Aren't you throwing it back in God's face by doing that?  All very valid questions, and to be honest, questions the tattoo is supposed to spark.  Not only those questions, but questions about cancer, dealing with it, helping someone who is going through it, what it is like to survive it.

For me, tattoos are very personal, not only the image, but the placement too.  If I wear a polo shirt or a 3/4 sleeve shirt, 98% of it is covered.  Just a bit of color peaks out, which can pull questions out of people.    They represent a multi layered story.  They are part of my life.  Each one has multiple layers of meaning behind it.  The only way to know why I have it is to ask, and be willing to listen and try to understand from my point of view, not yours.

So, why this one?  Why say Fuck Cancer, I beat it IIII times?  Because beating cancer is a multi layered thing to me.  And to me beating it is not the same as defeating it.

On the most obvious level, I beat it physically, with the help of my family, friends, and prayers.  Many, many prayers and candles being lit.  Many prayers by those of all faiths.  Christian, Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, Wiccan.  Each and every one greatly appreciated, and have touched me in more ways than the reader can understand.

On a less obvious level, I wanted something to look at to remind me of that.  Every time I look at my tattoo, I remember, and I give thinks for my family and friends.   About now you are asking yourself, "Why would you need something to remind yourself of that experience?"  Because, I am human.  Being human, things can become just a part of the background.  Part of the memory bank that gets visited once in awhile. 

How can you forget that experience you ask?  You don't forget it, not in reality, it is always there, but you can become compliant in the fact it is in the past, and fall into old ways.  I don't want to do that.  I don't want to take life, and the support of friends and family for granted.

Another level, I want to encourage people to ask questions.  It already has. I was at a coffee shop reading my Kindle (love my Kindle, but the battery isn't holding the charge as long).  Yes, I had the sleeve rolled up, just put lotion on it.  A young woman came up and commented on it, then started talking to me about cancer, she was just diagnosed with  Stage I breast cancer and she was scared.   We chatted for awhile, I listened to her, and when she got up to leave, she felt better, and decided that she was going to get involved with a  support group for breast cancer patients/survivors.

Another layer, and this is one that is very personal, and no matter how many prayers and help I have received from my family and friends, I had to deal with on my own.  No one on this earth can help you deal with your own mortality and the fact that cancer is a very intricate part of my life. 

You see, because of the type of cancer I get/have it isn't a matter of if it comes back, it is a matter of when.  I have to accept it, I have to embrace it.  Cancer is a part of me.  Cancer and I will dance through the rest of my life.  Cancer and I will box, go round and round with it. 

I didn't defeat Cancer, but I beat is so far in four rounds.

No one wants to die.  Me included.  There is way too much out there to see and do.  I have accepted my permanent dance with cancer. 

So every time I see that tattoo, I remember that fearing what maybe is stealing what can be.  Stealing my joy, stealing my life.

Look, like I said I am human.  Yes, I need reminders.  Winter especially.  I hate winter.  I tend not to go out in the cold.  I don't like it one bit.  I miss the sun, I miss the heat of the sun.  The leaves on the tree.  It is very easy to start to forget things when it is cold, dark and depressing outside.  It is very easy to just sit with a warm blanket, books, hot chocolate, and let life pass me by.  Not do a thing.  I don't want to fall into that.  Although once in awhile I will admit to it.

My tattoo wasn't something I did on the spur of the moment.  I thought long and hard about what I wanted and what it would say.  Even after I found the right tattoo artist to do the piece.  I thought long and hard.  After talking to my son, and finding that he thought it was a good idea, I talked to the artist and saw the design and knew that, yes, this was the right thing for me.

So no it wasn't vanity, hubris, or ego.  I'm not spitting in fate/s face and being defiant.  But the opposite.  A reminder to humble and to be grateful, for without many, many things that cannot be listed but are represented in the tattoo, I would not have be able to rise from the ashes and continue to be who I have become.

Make sense?

Phoenix by Robert , Black Dragon Tattoo, Uraban, Md

Biopsy, surgery, waiting on the May Clinic to decide what is next

February 18 I had a biopsy done.  The doctor and nurses were really nice.  They were explaining what they were going to do, and I told them don't sweat it, this ain't my first rodeo.  Which made them go huh? Then ask what I meant, I told them.

They used an ultra sound, and what I thought was a tumor that wasn't too large, turned out to be the size of a golf ball.  Did I mention that before?  Remember sometimes I get lost in the ideas that run through my muddled brain.  I didn't even  have to see to know it was larger, when the doc says, no needle aspiration, we are taking tissue samples, it kind of lets you know it is bigger than you thought.

So he numbs me  up, gets the clippers, and takes four cuttings.  The loud snap of the thing is rather funny.  No I didn't feel a thing, and watching the ultra sound screen was interesting.  Got that done, then it is hurry up and wait.

Close to two weeks later I am in the surgeons office, being asked when do you want to get this done.  My answer - tomorrow?  I even got the choice if I wanted to do a hospital stay or do it as an outpatient.  Since the outpatient surgery suite is at the hospital, if anything goes funny I'm right there, but if everything goes well, I can just go home.  Sounds like a plan to me.

He said that the ultra sound images looked good for a total removal with good margins.  So we scheduled surgery for March 18th. 

Oh, yeah it was a retroperitoneal sarcoma, high grade, although today he said that the preliminary findings from the Mayo Clinic made it higher, I think that just translates into it is very aggressive and  is poorly differentiated or undifferentiated.  Basically that translates into it has no real pattern it just grows, no cell organization to speak of.

So now they want to get the entire report back go through it and decide if radiation would be a course to go after.  Trying to keep chemo off the table since I crash and burn so fast.  Doctor Vaughn is going to bring it  up at the tumor board.  Who knows, maybe yes and maybe no.

I can walk without a problem, oh the margins are negative, so that is good.  There is a good portion of my right thigh that are numb.  Literally stick a pin in and I don't feel it numb.  Some of the smaller nerves may heal, but again, that is a who knows.

I did find out one thing, I have been abusing it.  Started yoga, again, figured gentle stretches, would be good, and my body need the exercise like you wouldn't believe.

Wrestling with two pit bulls wasn't a smart idea either, had Sasha flipped over and was holding her and Bailey comes over and lands two paws on the incision.  I feel a tearing, ouch, ouch, the feeling of  hot liquid.  I thought damn I ripped open the incision.  Nope, but I did cause some damage that cause it to bleed under the skin and seep fluid under the skin.  The body will reclaim the fluid, but it will take a while and I will have to not abuse the leg for a bit.  Although he didn't say not to do yoga.

Oh, and Doctor Vaughn told me that I will be seeing him every three months and getting scans every 6.  I'll never be cancer free, only waiting until the next eruption.  Could be a week could be a few years, but it is always going to be there.

And that is the news from this little spot in the world.