What's That You Say, Mrs. Robinson?

Sharpening the Axe

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe."
— Abraham Lincoln

We are sharpening the axe right now for sure. There is a lot to be done to prepare for my first chemo treatment on the 26th. Dan and I are busy researching, procuring, and discussing all of the bits and pieces necessary to give me every advantage I can possibly have. As we go about this process, I can't help but think of people who go through this alone or without the financial means to have the kind of choices I have. It breaks my heart has me thinking about what can be done to help those people. Much more thinking and research to be done on that front. 

What we are doing (axe sharpening):

1) Dan took a trip to a dispensary yesterday (thank you, California for making this easier than it otherwise would be). Over the next two weeks I will be trying out some things to help me manage pain and nausea and to help with my ability to sleep. There are so many options available here and you just don't know what will work best for you until you try. I'm keeping a log of doses, times, effects etc. so that I can decide what will work best for me once I start my treatments.

2) We went shopping to find some really comfy "loungewear" that I can wear to chemo treatments and around the house to be as comfortable as possible. It doesn't hurt to have a new outfit, no matter how modest, to help you feel good. We found some things made of incredibly soft fabrics and with easy fits that will allow for my port to be accessed easily (a port is something that they will insert into my chest so that they don't have to do a new IV for each chemo treatment which is important for my tiny and difficult veins).

3) I put together a calendar for Dan and I to share (via Google Calendar) with all of the details of all of my appointments, when I need to get lab work done, when I need to take which medications etc. It's a LOT to keep track of and getting this all nailed down BEFORE treatments begin gives me confidence and a feeling of control.

4) We went to Whole Foods to stock up on some good stuff to help nourish both of us during this process. 

5) We'll make a trip to CVS tomorrow to pick up my FIVE prescriptions waiting there and to get other things I'll need along the way

6) Also to be done: Reading materials to be gathered, portable art supplies to organize, playlists to be made, food ideas and recipes to gather to ensure that I can eat well and maintain strength.

For all of the planning and research and discussing, I'm well aware that there will be surprises, changes, unforeseen obsticles and other challenges that we'll face. The best we can do is to be prepared for what we can so that we have the energy to make the shifts we'll need to make when they present themselves. 

I'm OK to Go!

I've decided to resurrect my old blog in part as a communication tool to update people in my life about my current situation, but also as a tool and outlet for myself. If you know me well, you know I tend to be pretty transparent about myself, for better, or worse. If you don't know me well, this will become more clear in the coming months. This journey I'm embarking on is in no way unique, unfortunately. Way too many people have gone through this already, and too many will follow. Perhaps there is a nugget I will share here that will help you or someone you know down the line. 

Here is where I am: 

Three weeks ago I had a surgery to remove a cyst on my right ovary. Ultimately, I ended up having everything removed - both ovaries and tubes, uterus, cervix, lymph nodes in the area and a whole bunch of endometriosis related tissue that was all over my abdomen. They tried to do it laparoscopically, but to be thorough, had to open me up completely. I've since been recovering with about a 12 inch vertical incision. Anyone who has had abdominal surgery knows how hard it is to heal from this. You really find out how much you use your core on a minute by minute basis. My recovery is moving right along. Slower than I would like, but then I can be really impatient with myself sometimes. I'm actually right on track.

Here's the kicker.

The cyst on my ovary was cancer. It appeared contained and a biopsy of all of the other "stuff" they took out showed zero cancer anywhere else, including (WHEW) my lymph nodes. If you have any experience with cancer though, you know that you are never 100% sure. I'm young and healthy and have a long life to live yet, so we've decided to be aggressive and treat this with a round of chemotherapy. Some might disagree on this approach and I can respect that. I have decided to do it because it's the right path for me. 

As we've shared the news with family and close friends, the questions I get the most are "Are you ready for this? Are you OK? This is kind of scary, are you sure you are up for this?" To these questions, I offer the following clip from one of my very favorite movies of all time, Contact. (If you've never seen it, SEE IT. It's on Netflix). It's not just the words that apply, but the whole vibe of this scene. I have a lot of trusted people in my control room, all playing a different role, but all with a common purpose. A special nod to Dan, my head of mission control, who has been down this road before and who has been an absolute angel by my side already. Although there is the unknown, some fear and full knowledge that what's ahead is going to really rough, I want to send the message loud and clear, just the way that Jody Foster's character is here:

I imagine that I'll document my journey, or parts of it, here for anyone who is interested. Because my day to day energy and head-space is at the top of my priority list, I don't know how often I'll post but this is my plan anyway.

I'm certain that some of you have either direct or second hand experience with this and will have some advice or other nuggets of info to share. Please DO! I'm all ears. While I'm attacking this with the western medicine approach, I'm also very much including other approaches in my treatment and care plan: meditation, essential oils, art therapy, counseling, salt lamps, yoga (when I'm physically able). I will consider anything. Bring it. 

Because, I'm OK to go!