Everything is Relative
I've always been a firm believer in relativity. What is a booger bear for me, may be a cake walk for the next individual or vice versa. More on that and my "profound perspectives" in a moment.

First, my oldest son, Sean who lives in Virginia sent me this picture last night. Never to be outdone, he did a sympathy cut for me. I am amazed by all these good looking guys willing to shave their heads in my honor. You guys rock!
As for my pitiful head, it is prickly and tingly and the little peachy stuff is now coming out, time to get out the shaving cream and say goodbye to the hair for a few months. At least  it is summer and this is a "cool do". The last two times I lost my hair it was fall and winter and oh my gosh, it was cold going out for the newspaper in the morning. I would keep a knit hat by the door to  pull on and keep my head warm.
I've been experiencing painful abdominal cramping the last couple of days and I'm wondering if it is a healing process from the hysterectomy. These pains are in my lower back and abdomen and feel just like menstrual cramps from high school. Deja vu, I'm regressing! The nurses are going to check on it and get back to me and let me know if it is normal, or I've perhaps strained something. What else?
Now, before all of you whip out your cell phones or start punching in a  supportive email, just know that this next bit is just venting on my part. I have a hard time looking in the mirror, the reflection I see, is not me. It truly must be an alien, I don't recognize the face and definitely not the body. Who took my fit, trim somewhat attractive body and left this lumpy, bumpy, albeit skinny shell of skin, bruises and baldness in my house? Yes, yes, I know, I will get back there someday, but right now good grief!!! This is where the relative normality kicks in and I could kick myself in the butt because I  AM alive and I am able to fight this with some strength, some dignity and a whole lot of friends, family and supporters out there. It could be worse, and I know that, but I gotta do a little bit of pity party every now and then!
I

Energy Zappers
 I am amazed at the small things, the movements the simple chores that will zap your strength so quickly. Vacumning, making a bed, FORGET mopping! We have a small house, I can't imagine trying to vacumn anything larger than this. It would be daunting!
Tim's sister visited over the weekend and is one of the most wonderful, spiritual women I know. She left me several gifts, besides the best being herself and her visit, incuding bible verses to give me thought and comfort. Thank you Frances! I've had many visitors lately and each one brings a special piece to my current puzzle. My sister and her family have been by, my Godmother came by yesterday with a soft warm hug that was comforting. Hugs are good, folks, they tingle right down to your toes! I've always been a hugger.
Last night, my youngest son, Grant came by, laid on the bed next to me and held my hand while we talked. He is in the Marine Corps Reserve and just returned from his summer mountain training in Nevada. He and his company flew Southwest to Reno and back, so a very special thank you to the Dallas based flight attendants who took care of my son and his buddies on both flights. Apparently the guys  were all a little "ripe" on the second flight, so kudos to the flight attendants who handled the smell and gave the guys their best SWA service.

As you can see by the picture of Grant, my very tall Marine, he and I have the same haircut for awhile!
I've never been much of a wig person, more of scarf and hat kinda gal! My mom and I are going to the fabric store to pick out some colors for scarves and when I get back, I will rest, my promise to all of you worry warts!

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow!

I am so glad for good days, WOOHOO! This morning had blood work done and my counts are good, so I can eat all sorts of fresh fruits and veggies. When my counts drop I have to be careful because raw uncooked items can harbor bacteria that can bring my counts down even more. So I CAN EAT!
This afternoon was my hair day. Lynn picked me up and took me out to Park Salon, owned by Jerry and Pam Woolery who have been doing my hair for the last few years. We took a bottle of wine to celebrate my hair loss (sometimes you celebrate when you can and what you can). Kevin Cline, a friend of Jerry's was in the shop visiting and on the spur of the moment volunteered to do a "sympathy cut" along with me. How cool is that? So the pictures that follow are the process and the fun that Lynn, Pam, Jerry, Kevin and myself had this afternoon. All of them made this part of my journey not only bearable but to quote Mastercard, "Priceless".

Before                                                                       

  Kevin, What a good sport

Pam  & Jerry with Lynn snapping pictures

                                                                     Always wanted a punk rock haircut!

Finished products

Thanks Guys, you made my day!

A RED LETTER "NORMAL" DAY!
 I woke up this morning, not too many aches, not much tingling, my mouth seems a whole lot lessy fuzzy, maybe I can even taste my food today. Let's see, how many pounds can I add on in a 24 hour period? (I'm kidding!) But I feel good today, I've watered my garden and I'm sitting outside watching the wildlife so today is a gift from God and I thank him for it. I am blessed with where we live, the view  in the picture below is what I see from my bedroom window. There have been days in the last couple of weeks where I couldn't handle the bright light so I had to close the curtains to this view, but I knew it was there outside my window.

On a tougher note, my hair is getting really dry and brittle so it is time to say goodbye to it. With the first two cancers, I took control and had it cut off before it really got bad, and it does come out in big clumps and feels really,really weird. So, tomorrow my wonderful friend Lynn is taking me to my wonderful hairdresser, Jerry, to get  a flat top. I will include pictures. When the short peachy stuff comes out, Tim will lather me up with shaving cream at home and leave me slick as a cue ball. I found with the first two hair losses, that taking control of this issue gives  me a better piece of mind.  I already know what I look like bald and fortunately, my head is a decent shape. AND, for all you balding gentlemen out there, MINE will come back! A beautiful day to all of you, holler at you tomorrow.

Milestone
It may not be a big step but it gives me a marker to keep moving, I finished my first cycle of three chemo treatments today in Little Rock. I have 5 more cycles of three, but I'm getting there!
This last week was really difficult, I had shortness of breath, major acid reflux, heartburn, numbness and  tingling in my hands and feet, my new knees were throbbing so badly, they wouldn't hold me up very well. All of these side effects are bad but one of the worst is the fuzzy mouth, it is like having twenty cotton balls in your mouth while chewing on a piece of tin foil. It doesn't matter what you try to eat, the food or liquid goes in, slams on the brakes and says"Nope, not going any further", so eating has been somewhat tricky and I've lost 6 lbs. this week. One of the other side effects is the belching with the hearburn. When you burp all day long, your chest begins to hurt and it exhausts you. I think I now have some medicine to help with that, we'll see at 2:30 tomorrow morning, when I trying to stifle the urps, so that I don't wake up Tim, although he IS a pretty sound sleeper.
Lastly and I truly understand if the gentlemen reading this blog would rather not hear the next part, jump down to the last paragraph and catch up there. But for the women, when you are in the throes of chemotherapy, one of the toughest side effects is constipation. You have to take stool softeners daily, if you fudge just once, YOU WILL PAY FOR IT! So you sit on the porcelain deity hoping for something and then your body starts a little tightening, a little slide, and low and behold you give birth to a bouncing baby 1 ounce poop. AND that is exactly how it feels, just like labor pains (Believe me ladies, I was proud!) Unfortunately, you tend to also give birth to a 10 ounce hemerrhoid, but hey, its a trade off, because you definately want things moving inside your body, the consequences are too great.
So on the whole I had a good day, I actually ate a hamburger and I finished it, I sang to the Sirius Satellite 50's station all the way home (2 hours, poor Tim) and I have a lopsided smile on this normal but skinny face. God is good and I made it through another day. WOOHOO!

Onward!
The doctor called yesterday and said my blood counts were good, so damn the torpedoes,(and this dragging ass of mine) full speed ahead, we are headed to Little Rock for the 3rd toxic cocktail and my first milestone in this nasty process!
Although, somewhat queasy this morning, I actually feel a little more energy. I do need to visit with the nurses and the doctor today about managing the side effects better. This is not my first rodeo or unfortunately, my second so I've become an amateur "expert" as these stupid side effects. If I could just get a couple of them under control, I think my quality of life would be better. What with constant belching, heartburn, muscle aches and pains, tingling in the extremities, and the feeling that someone is sitting on me, the queasiness and the ever present fuzzy tongue feeling  which does not lend itself to healthy eating! Right now I'd settle for the belching and the heartburn relief.
This round of chemo will be through the abdomen, but hopefully not as bad as the Cisplatin was last week. Keep your fingers crossed, we are off to see the wizard!

Summer Solstice
Today is the first day of summer but here in NE Texas/SW Arkansas it has been over 95 for 2 weeks. Today will hit 100 with not a lot of relief in sight. No, I didn't drop off the face of the earth, just feel like it. I don't think there is a square inch on my body that doesn't burn or hurt. Tomorrow is the last of the first cycle, woohoo, a milestone.
If there is a big enough rock out there for this wasted 6 ft. body to crawl under, I would sure like to find it.
With the first two cancers, I had a rest between surgeries and chemo, but not with this one. I don't think my body has had a chance to bounce back and it is pretty worn down right now. Could use artic blast and a new mouth, this one is really cottony. I'll bounce back folks, just give me a little bit.

If ever I wished for normal, it would be right now!!
OK no sugar coating today. I feel like I've been whooped up on by Larry the Cable Guy's 1000 pygmies. Nothing is moving the way its supposed to, inside or out. This is not my body, surely aliens came down, snatched the real one and left this pitiful one in its place!
Tomorrow has to be better.

Two Birthdays Today!
Today is my wonderful husband Tim's birthday, he is 58 years young. Today is also the birthday of Southwest Airlines celebrating 39 years. I will do my best to be upbeat today for both my husband and my company. Tim, I love you! Southwest, fly safe!

YUCKY!
Nasty stuff moved in last night, headaches, stomach cramps, muscle aches and the ever present fuzzy dog slept on tongue. I'll keep my butt on my bed today and watch the birds, squirrels and nature in general outside my picture window..

Someone told me today that I was the only person who looked happy to be getting chemotherapy, did I always smile? Well, yeah! At least I try to smile, it supposedly takes less muscles than frowning. I'm all for less (sometimes).
Today was the first of the intra-peritoneal injections. They ran 2 liters of saline through the IV port along with various anti-nausea medicines and the everyday steroid, and then they ran 2 liters of fluid including the cisplatin straight into my abdomen. I now look like I am 6-7 months pregnant! It will only last for 2-3 days much better than a full nine months. When you have that much fluid sloshing around inside of you, at some point it needs to come out. During this clinical trial, I have to measure my urine output after the infusions. You should have seen this six-footer tap dancing down the hall with my IV pole and my plastic hat to measure the output. The last 20 feet to the restroom, I did with my legs crossed! Barely and I mean barely made it!  Got some applause from  other patients when I came out. The picture to the right is me watching the final 200 ml go through the tubing so that I could make my mad dash down the hall.
Tim was unable to go with me today he had something crop up at work that was unavoidable, so my Mom stepped in and drove me there and back. What a trooper, I think she is worn out for a couple of days. She said she wouldn't be driving anywhere for a little while. It is not easy to drive 2 hours, sit 4-5 hours in a not so comfortable chair and then jump in the car and drive 2 hours facing west into the sun to go home.
Right now I am home and feeling OK, other than my bloated stomach and occasional dribbles. What can I say, I've had three children in my lifetime and 4 liters of fluid today THERE will be dribbles! Heavy stuff will probably kick in tomorrow, hoping for better planning for the worst, but having been through this 2 other times I've become a pro at knowing my body's defenses and warning signs when blood counts drop and vomit is on the rise.
I'll let you know if I have a NORMAL couple of days. God Bless everyone!

I'm home.  Yesterday was as close to a nightmare as I could get with my eyes open. We got to the hospital at 7:30AM for an 8:00 appointment to have the two ports put in. One at my right shoulder and one below my bottom right rib. When we got there they only had orders for one port, SO we waited 1 1/2 hours while they figured out what was going on. They finally decided after a long conversation with Dr.Stone that I was indeed getting two ports. The first one was installed without a hitch (note the picture), but the second one was delayed two hours because apparently there was not enough fluid in my abdomen to insert the guide wire. Really? I was NPO after midnight (no food, no drinks) who figured that one out? AFTER two hours of waiting, they decided to do the second procedure with a CT Scanner. This was my 3rd CT in 3 weeks, no fear of excessive radiation problems, right? By the time the second procedure was over and Tim raced my wheelchair to the cancer clinic area, (do you know how bumpy hospital floors are?) we were too late to do the chemo. It was going to take 3-4 hours and it was already 3:30PM, NOW everything changed, we still had to spend the night at the hotel, be at the clinic for chemo at 7:30 the next morning and  then do the second one on WEDNESDAY. Jeez! My patience was wearing thin (my three children gifted me with a lot of patience, thank you very much, Tiffany, Sean and Grant!) and Tim was giving me that calm down look that I have learned to recognize over the last 25 years. We left the hospital and headed to the hotel and apparently the two batches of anesthesia for the surgeries did not sit well, I started throwing up in Tim's truck (I had a barf bag, woohoo) and continued until 10:00 last night. Now remember I was NPO after midnight, there was not much in there to heave. I told all of you I would give you the good and the bad and the ugly, well, my hysterectomy incision is still healing and now I have two mediport implants that are healing, and when I sneeze, or cough or HEAVE, I have to hold everything in, well do the math, I only have two arms with hands attached and it is difficult to hold everything AND kegel so that I don't tinkle on myself, SO guess what gave? We'll leave it at that, let your imaginations run wild at my expense, hey I'm game.  I'm thinking Tim needs to have a porcelain deity installed in his Dodge truck! It has all the other whistles and bells, let's add one more. If I wasn't heaving ,last night, I was zonked out, it was an out of body experience that I would like never to repeat.

Today went off without a hitch, a little over three hours of infusion with the first drug Paclitaxel. Everyone at the hospital has been very kind even though their right hand doesn't always know what  the left hand is doing.  We made it home safely and we even stopped for lunch, even though right now I am fighting to keep it down. You know that feeling when your throat gets tight, your mouth feels like your dog has slept on your tongue and you get that thin bead of sweat across your brow? Yup, that is where I am right NOW. One booger infusion down and 17 yucky suckers to go as well as 16 additional infusions of Avastin, the wonder drug we are trying out.

Many people have a "happy place" they go to when they are stressed or under physical pressure, my place is the North Shore of Point Reyes National Seashore just north of San Francisco. I grew up in the Napa Valley about 1 1/2 hours away from this beach which was a salvation and soothing place for me. It is not a good swimming beach, usually not too many people, there are tough undertows and an occasional white shark headed to their breeding grounds. But, it is a beautiful, wonderful beach for contemplation, walking your dog or just sitting and watching and listening to the waves. My kind of beach, give me some Celtic music and I'm good. The last time I was on the North Shore was in 2004 after I finished my second bout of cancer and my hair was about an inch long. I had a trade show in San Francisco and had a couple extra days, my good friend, Robin from high school was with me and snapped the picture below, can you tell I felt at home? "Happy places" don't work for everyone, but this one does it for me, so when I am at my worst, in my mind this is where I will be until the funky crap subsides and NORMAL makes a n appearance.

Rough day yesterday and I didn't even get my first chemo treatment. Sime confusion about doing two ports and then after the first port was finished apparently I didn't have enough fluid in my abdomen to do the second port. By the time they finished it was after 3:30PM and too late to do an infusion. Gotta love hospitals! The second batch of anesthesia did me in and I prayed to the porcelain deity all night. Better now, and headed back to the hospital for chemo.
Check back later today when we get home. Maybe!!!!!

HEY, I found it! This is the quote I was talking about, this is me! The author is unknown, but they must have been a fly on every one of my walls throughout my life!
This is my mantra!
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

Today was a NORMAL Saturday, I went grocery shopping this morning with Tim. My daughter, Tiffany came in for the weekend to pamper me. She took me to a shoe store, and a novelty store, we bought lottery tickets(WE WON $30!) and we got our toes done. Check out those toes! Now, you're not supposed to look at the lumps, bumps and callouses just check out the paint job on the toes. My daughter is behind as I'm typing telling me that we earned every one of those lumps, bumps and callouses and that feet are just like life, bumpy, lumpy and full of whatever! She's right, what would we do if we had smooth sailing through our entire lives? We wouldn't be able to appreciate the good things without the bitter taste of the bad.

To be honest, I think I've had my share of bitter, but apparently God has some more tastes tests out there for me. How about a little chocolate, Lord?

I have had  a lot of people call and email me in the last couple of weeks, worrying that I will cave in to this disease and give up, those of you close to me, know that's not my style. I will throw everything I have at this cancer and then chunk some more in that general direction! My goal is to be flying again as soon as my new friend Dr. Stone gives me the go ahead and fly as long as I am able.

Slight change of subject here, but definitely something that's bugging me. With clothes on I don't look too bad, but man oh man I have enough scars and zippers on this six foot body to make the bride of Frankenstein jealous, AND, I get two more incisions on Monday when they put in the port and catheter! Jeez! Oh well, scars are like lumps, bumps and callouses, part of life and apparently a big part of my life.

I'm trying to psych myself up for Monday but it's harder when you know what's coming. This is one time I wish I was going into a new adventure naive and blind.

There is a quote out there somewhere about using up your body, eating chocolate etc. and when you leave this world, WOOHOO you will have had a good time. If anyone out there knows the quote I'm talking about, would you send it to me? I think it needs to be my mantra for this whole abnormal experience.

Tim and I have wonderful family and friends around us. They have brought us meals, prayed with us, smiled when we needed a smile and cried with us when we couldn't hold back the tears. Our three children are all grown with familes of their own and they are scattered across the US. They check in on us daily and try to visit as much as possible.

The muttley duo in the picture are my constant companions. Sampson, our St. Bernard was given to Tim when I was going through my second cancer. He was only 9 weeks old when we got him. He is the, kindest, gentlest dog I have ever had or encountered. Hurley, our schnauzer mix has been with us 2 1/2 years and is pure spit and vinegar, but profoundly loyal to the two of us.
When I nap during the day, Sampson is on the floor by the bed and Hurley is right beside me as if they are protecting me from any additional harm. I wake up often to find Hurley's and Sampson's noses in my face. (Gotta love that Milkbone breath!) I like to think they checking on me but needing a romp outside to relieve themselves is probably closer to the truth. They have been a furry, soft, amazing comfort to me. If I didn't know better I'd say they know exactly what's going on.
In four days I start my chemotherapy. In most ways, I dread it. I know what the treatments do to the body, mind and sometimes the spirit. I wish I didn't know how tough it can be.But, in a few ways I am anxious to get started because of the old adage, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we're done!" I truly believe the waiting and the not knowing wear on your soul more than anything else.
At least for now, I have wet noses and milkbone breath to get through until Monday!

I always thought the word "Normal" was boring, for example, "A normal day", "everything looks normal", "that's normal", "normal delivery", normal, normal, normal! Until your world caves in and YOU want to just "get back to normal"!

In June 2000 I was a healthy fairly well adjusted married 43 year old, exercised regularly, ate healthy, had a good job, in other words, normal until I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Normal took a flying leap out the window. After surgery, reconstruction, 8 rounds of chemo, 38 rounds of radiation, 6 months of a new drug called Herceptin, total hair loss, mouth sores, muscle and joint aches, bloating from steroids, yada, yada, yada, I recovered from the chemo side effects and I was on my way back to normal. When you are diagnosed with cancer, your outlook on life as a whole, changes. Some people are more fearful, some people more laid back and adventurous and a few undecided souls are stuck somewhere in the middle. Me, I am the adventurous type, let me get out there and start living again. Which is exactly what I did until July 2003 when I was diagnosed with a new breast cancer not related to the OLD breast cancer. You guessed it "Normal" snuck out the back door, damn him! Here we go again, surgery, 6 rounds of chemo, 38 rounds of radiation all the same nasty, funky side effects. This time though, I came out on the fearful end. After all, who gets diagnosed with two separate unrelated cancers, two strikes? I was 40 pounds heavier from the steroids, my self confidence had taken a nose dive, and I was conscious of every little ache and pain that I had, OMG, is it cancer again?

It took several years to swing back to the adventurous side, but when I did, I did it in a big, BIG, way. In 2008 I lost the 40 pounds, changed my appearance and followed a childhood dream and became a flight attendant with Southwest Airlines. Always wanted to fly, but always thought I was too tall, I am six feet, and then I thought I was too old, but a wonderful flight attendant who has become a good friend said to go for it and I did, how cool is that? I was in seventh heaven, God gave me a whole new life. My relationship with my husband improved, my self confidence and self worth sky rocketed and I was "NORMAL", except for two bad knees which were the result of the chemotherapy. I had lost all the cartilage in both knees and the only option left to me was a double total knee replacement which I had done in September 2009.

I was bound and determined to get back in the air, flying as soon as possible. I love my job and hated being grounded. The usual recovery time for a single knee replacement, let alone a double is 4 - 6 months, I was flying again at 9 weeks! WooHoo.! Can't keep me down or though I thought.

In March of this year I started feeling very tired, had some abdominal cramping, bloating, change in bowel and kidney functions. I contacted my doctors, they said it was a urinary tract infection left over from the catheter from my knee surgery. I took four different rounds of antibiotics and still was not feeling any better. I pressed on and asked the doctors to do more extensive blood work. Call it gut instinct or whatever you will, but my gut was screaming at me in more ways than one that something was not "normal".

I had read an article I found in Wired Magazine regarding the Canary Foundation whose purpose was to find better ways to diagnose certain cancers. One of the cancers was ovarian cancer which the founders mother died from, after repeatedly being told she had a urinary tract infection. Thank you Wired Magazine and the Canary Foundation for giving me the impetus to push on for a more thorough diagnosis. I was diagnosed on the 17th of May with cancer, had a radical hysterectomy and went home to wait on the prognosis. because at that point we didn't know if it was a metastasis from one of the first two cancers or a stand alone third cancer. On June 3rd Dr. Stone at UAMS in Little Rock, my new found friend, called to tell me it was a stand alone third Stage IIIC ovarian cancer, prognosis 1 - 5 years. "Normal" didn't even show up for this one, chicken s--t!

Now we come to today, I have been accepted into a clinical trial that I will begin this coming Monday, June 14th. It combines two available chemo drugs with a new drug that has not been approved for ovarian cancer. It has been approved for lung, colon and breast cancer. The purpose of the study is to determine the best of three different infusion methods. I was randomly chosen for one method which will administer the three drugs both intravenously and intraperitoneal. In other words I will have a mediport in my chest and a catheter in my abdomen and will receive the chemo through both every three weeks at UAMS in Little Rock. My ob/gyn oncologist, Dr Stone is the investigator on this study. My ports will be surgically implanted on Monday morning and I will have my first chemo Monday afternoon. My husband, Tim and I will spend the night in Little Rock and I will do my second treatment on Tuesday morning. Here we go again, with all the raging side effects! Who on earth gets lucky enough to have three separate cancers in ten years?!! Normal, hell, I've never been normal!

I will try and do short blurbs every other day or so and give you the best I can at trying to understand what I will be going through. God has a plan for me, I'm sure, I just need to practice more patience and tolerance to see what that plan will be.