This year, our holidays will be fairly low key.  We are finding ourselves a bit of what my old friend Judy (who passed two years ago from this horrible disease) “cancer poor”.  We are ok.  Thank goodness for decent insurance, right?  But there were expenses…like three times as many summer camps for the boys than usual, money well-spent IMO.

We are just needing to tighten our belts and personally, I think it’s a good thing.  I think it teaches good lessons to be fiscally responsible.

So, I’m making stuff with my fancy sewing machine  that was purchased pre-diagnosis.

We bought cards but they are from Costco and I bought the bare minimum.  And no, I did not include a picture of myself on them.  I am not in any frame of mind to put my mug on a dorky holiday card and send it out.

I love getting holiday cards.  Seriously.  I love it.  I tape them all over my window sill.  They make me really happy.

But the pressure of sending them.  It’s a lot for an unorganized girl like me.  Every year, I run out of cards.  Every year, I go digging up the same addresses.  Every year, I finally give up in exhaustion knowing that I most likely sent three cards to the same house.  Mail merges and lists are a great idea but it’s not my strong suit.  Every year it’s the same thing.  But that’s okay.

Want to see how many cards I got when I was going through treatment?  I kept them all.  They make me really happy.  They give me goosebumps.  I keep them in a pretty bag.

I wish I could make something crafty for every single person who thoughtfully sent me a gift or a card or several cards.

But for now, I am starting with my boys’ teachers.  My youngest is making his teacher a reversible scarf.  It’s of his own design.  I’m like, “What about this nice pattern?  Or this one?” and he’s all, “No Mom, I know what I want to do.”  So we went to the fabric store and he picked his teacher’s favorite colors and we will work on it once he finishes this other project we’ve been working on.

And as a side note, I strongly believe that parents should give a gift to their child’s teachers around the holidays and at the end of the school year.  I don’t just say that because I am a teacher.  I say it because I know how hard these people work.  I know it is often a  thankless job.  I know these teachers have a lot on their plates besides making sure our kids get a good education.  They deserve something nice.  Even if it’s a card your child made for them that you filled with words of gratitude.

Regardless of what I make and what I do this holiday season.  For me, this December is really about appreciating the people who made my life easier while I went through a difficult time.  People who went above and beyond to bring a smile to my face or that of my boys.  I said early on in this blog that I am historically an insecure person.  I fully expected to be alone once I was diagnosed.  I really thought that I would lose everyone.  Sadly, I just braced myself for that because it has been a pattern in my life.  But it didn’t happen (well it DID happen on one level (a horrendous level) but not with the people who really know me and LOVE me).  I am overwhelmed by the love I received.  And yes, a card in the mail makes a difference.  A text makes a difference.  A phone call makes a difference.  Calling me and asking if you can come for a visit makes a difference.  If you brought us a dinner, it made a difference.  If you thought about us, it made a difference. Support is support.  And it makes all the difference.  I was tidying and I found a note from one of my dearest friends whom I have known since the second grade.  “I wish I lived closer.” she said.  It made me tear up even months later.

I’ve been reading that when someone is diagnosed with cancer, many just don’t know what to do.  It scares them.  Some it scares so badly that they need to turn away.  But if you are reading this and you are scared, I just have to tell you that it doesn’t take much to make someone’s day.  A card, a text, a prayer, a Facebook message.  Being brave means doing things even when you are scared so if someone you love this season is going through something and you just don’t know what to do, just do something little.  That’s really all it takes.

And conversely, if someone you love is diagnosed with something horrible, don’t go overboard either.  Respect the person’s boundaries and listen to their wishes.  Their illness is not about you.  I really believe that a lot of misunderstandings and arguments occur because of this.  I learned that my illness is my thing and that I have the right to set any kind of boundary without others adding their egos into the mix.  The last thing I wanted to do during chemo was argue with another person and yet, in the beginning of my treatment, it was happening a lot and everyone involved was miserable.  Cancer patients don’t have the energy to waste on petty ego arguments.  The last thing I needed was that.  Think about it.  It may hurt to hear that your presence is not needed but it isn’t always about you. That may sound harsh but it’s true.  Toward the end of chemo, there were times that I was home alone and I was too sick to answer the door.  I had to cancel dinners that people were bringing because I knew I couldn’t get out of bed to open the front door.  I felt awful and ungrateful cancelling but you know what? Everyone was understanding.

That’s love.

One of my friends had even MADE the meal.  I asked her not to bring it and she put it in her freezer.  Then she texted me asking if she could bring it in a couple of days but I didn’t get the text for months.  I was mortified.  I felt so rude and bad.  But when I contacted her…she was totally cool about it.  She was all kindness.  That matters.  It matters.

Having this cancer has taught me a lot about myself.  About who and what is important.  About who I can rely on to really have my best interests at heart.  And the little things mattered.  That time my friend Michelle brought me popsicles mattered.  That time my friend Julie patiently let me change my mind about a coffee date three times mattered.  That time my brother came to visit and hugged me and told me he loved me mattered.  That time my sister texted me pictures of my adorable new niece, it mattered.  All the times my clan of  aunties sent me a card to lift my spirits, it mattered.  And when my mother drove seven hours simply to take my children to GolfLand to give us all a break, that mattered.  The daily texts throughout my chemo from my friend and sorority mom Jennifer, those texts mattered a lot. That time my friend L knocked on my door with a Starbucks, that mattered.  That time I told my friend Heather I was too tired to talk and she gently let me get off the phone, that mattered.  That time this wonderful guy, Rich ran a marathon for me and brought me the Tiffany necklace. Well, that just made me cry like a baby.

I believe that patterns happen in our lives and it is up to us to see them and face them and fix them when we can or, if we need to, let them go.

I think this cancer (while it is a horrible thing) has shown me how loved I am.  And that is a big lesson for a person who deep down has not always felt very loved.

I am so grateful for the love and care I have received.  I am so lucky.  I wish I could send every one of you a present I made with my two little hands.

But all I can really say is thank you for being there for me in whatever way.  It mattered.

That’s a question I get asked a lot.

It’s a tricky answer.

Technically, I have been “cancer free” since my surgery on April 18th.  We confirmed that with bone and body scans.  There is no detectable cancer in my body.

There could, however, be microscopic traces of cancer still in my system and since it made it to my lymph nodes, there is a bigger chance.  The chemo was done to try to prevent the microscopic traces (if there were any) from growing.  The radiation was done for the same reason.

See it’s not like if I had a blood cancer and they were giving me chemo to kill it or put it in remission.

The doctors cut out my cancer and then blasted me in the hopes of keeping it away.

Of course their aim was to “cure” me.

My new oncologist told me that if it doesn’t come back in fifteen years, that means I was cured.

Fifteen years is a long time to wait.  I will be fifty-six.  In fifteen years, both of my children will be in their twenties.  Fifteen years seems like an eternity.  Anything can happen in fifteen years.  I can’t really even contemplate fifteen years.

For now, I am ok.  I hope to remain that way.

I never felt sick with the cancer.  It was the treatment that made me feel unhealthy.

It is a very strange thing to wrap one’s head around.

Am I okay?  Yes.  I am okay.

Will I always be okay?  We don’t know.  Nobody knows.

It seems strange to do all that work and go through all that torture and not know if it even works.  But the truth is, only time will tell.

So when people ask me, I am never quite sure how to answer.  I tell them I’m ok for now.  I tell them I hope to be okay forever.

When I was a kid, I read a book about a girl who had bone cancer.  I remember thinking to myself, how scary.  How do you live your life knowing you have cancer?

Well, now I can tell you that you just do it.  You just live.  And you are grateful for every day you can get out of bed and be alive.  Even boring mundane stuff is fun these days.  Cleaning the kitchen is even fun.  Seriously.  Heck, breathing is fun.

And it feels great to feel better, even when it is in baby steps.

The other day, I called my friend Heather.  We’ve been friends for over twenty years.  The last time I talked to her was right after I had finished chemo and I did not have much to say. The call was quite brief.  This time, I talked and talked.  It made me realize how much progress I have made in my recovery.  I don’t take it for granted for one second.

Am I okay now?

Yes.  Today I am okay.

The actress Lynn Redgrave had her first battle with breast cancer in the early 2000’s.  After her treatment, she apparently stated that she would not die of breast cancer.  And then, several years later, she did indeed die of breast cancer.  It came back.  And the weird thing is, if you do a search, you will see that there are breast cancer survivors who were mad at her.  Mad that she would be so bold to say that she was cured and then have the audacity to die.

Really?

She was trying to be optimistic.  She was trying to take control of her disease.  She was hoping she was cured.  And people got mad at her for dying?

All I can say is that the internet is full of jerks.

I do not find myself as bright eyed as Ms. Redgrave.  My brain is wired to be more realistic.

The truth is that this disease could eventually kill me.  That is a big possibility.

But it isn’t going to do it today…or even tomorrow.

Today, I am okay, and that is all I’ve got.

I seem to have caught a little cold.  It’s the first one I’ve had since last winter.  It’s really been kind of nice.  There has been a great deal of illness from other members of the household but I have managed to escape it all for months until now.

It’s weird when you consider it.

Yes, treatment has brought a great deal of pain and drama but I have not been conventionally sick in almost a year.

“It’s about time.” said someone who shall remain nameless.

Humph!

Anyway, I have a little cough and head ache.  It’s nothing hugely bad.  Just uncomfortable.

In other news, I met my new oncologist this week and the meeting went well.  A lot more listening, a lot less gruff than what I had been experiencing with my former oncologist.

I am not trying to disparage my former oncologist.  Like I said, she served me well during treatment and was very aggressive.  She was also attentive when trouble arose.  Like when I had mouth sores on my birthday.  She called in prescriptions at the speed of light.  I appreciated that care.

I explained to my new oncologist that while she and her colleagues have years of experience and schooling behind them in the field of fighting cancer, I only really have the past eight months and I need a sympathetic and patient ear when I have questions.  And some days, I have lots of questions.

I am also unwilling to be put out to pasture or dismissed.

Regardless, I have never been a “do what I tell you to do” kind of person.  I need someone who is willing to work with me.

These doctors hear these question hundreds, even thousands of times but for me, it’s the first time asking them.

Hopefully, this new oncologist will continue to collaborate with me.  This is my life we are talking about here.

Onward and upward.

Physically:

Well, I’m still chubby.  Whatever.  I’m working on it.

Other than that,  there have been some more disturbing changes.  For one,  hands and feet still have some neuropathy.  It is not debilitating but it has changed me.  I was once a person who only wore shoes and socks when I had to.  I never wore slippers.  Slippers?!  How absurd.  The minute I got home, off came the shoes and socks.

Not anymore.

My feet are sensitive.  Cold floors bug them.  Ouch!  And forget about what happens if I step on a lego these days!  It’s crazy how sensitive my feet are.  I wear slippers.  I wear socks.  Constantly.

It’s weird.  It’s so unlike me.  I think it has changed me.  Not for the better or for the worse.

I’m just different now.

And my hands.  Still very sensitive.  It’s difficult to write for long periods of times.  The other day we were out and about and my husband chided me for not clapping for some performer.

“It hurts my hands to clap,” I told him.

Oh.

That’s different.

My hearing is also off.  I’m thinking it might be permanent.  I even took an online test and while I am in normal range.  I am on the very low side of normal and my test looked very different from my husband’s.

I ask people to repeat themselves.  I turn up the t.v.  I try very hard not to act like an asshole.

Because I am the one with the hearing loss.  It would seem stupid to lose patience with someone else because I can’t hear them.

I try to be polite.

Although,I am not perfect… someone I love dearly is a known mumbler.  I still lose my patience a little bit there.  But now I say,”HEY!  I really can’t hear very well, can you enunciate please?”

I do wish I had been told there was a chance that Taxol would impair my hearing.  I still would have taken it.  It just would have been nice to know.

What?!!

🙂

I’m still having aches and pains.  Laying around for seven months will do that to a person.  My back starts to hurt if I am in the kitchen too long. My core muscles are shot.  Kablooey!  But every day feels a little better.  It really does.

You know what helps?  Big doses of L-glutamine mixed with juice.  It helps a lot

I refuse to be a person who sits around complaining about her aches and pains.  I refuse.

So I am trying to exercise more and am keeping up with my supplements and acupuncture and if I need, some nice analgesics like ibuprofen.

Emotionally:

I am doing ok.  Trying to stay positive.  Trying not to have murky, scary thoughts.

The holidays help.

Early on I was having obsessive thoughts about breast cancer.  It got to the point where I was annoying myself so I knew I was annoying those around me.  Nobody wants to talk about that stuff in the first place.

But like I said, the holidays have helped.  They make me happy.  Decorating and baking cookies make me happy. I like to be happy.

Something else I’ve noticed is that having this big scare has sharpened my bullshit detector.  Not only that, it’s given me distance from drama.  I don’t want any part of meanness or petty stuff.  I just walk the other way.  And I see it.  Oh I see it.

But I don’t care anymore.

And the things that used to bother me…well…they just don’t.

I realize that a lot of it is people’s egos.  I’m trying to see past that and still love the person.

And I am not even joking right now!

I’m just living in my Beth bubble.  It’s actually quite a nice place to be.

I don’t know, life is simplified.  I take things as they come.

I laugh more.

This Thanksgiving marks a full year that I have been making my own broth.  It all started with the bird from last Thanksgiving.  I took off most of the skin and put the bones and joints and turkey stuffs in my crock pot.  I added some vegetables and some peppercorns and let it simmer for twenty hours…and thus a new lifestyle was born!

This picture looks gross but it made some good broth!

I use the broth for everything, soups, stews, mashed potatoes, gravy…

We drink it.  I drank it a lot during chemo.  The broth is full of minerals and gelatin and it’s good for you.

I always roast first (we have roast chicken about once a week for dinner) and then I simmer the bones for broth.

My boys hate the smell of the cooking crock pot.  I admit, our house often smells of “old people”.  They boys don’t have much to do with the broth on it’s own.

Last night, we had a simple dinner of pan roasted salmon, green beans and quinoa.  I had some quinoa in bulk and wasn’t sure how to prepare it, then I shrugged my shoulders, got my ladle and dipped into the crock pot to get some already simmering broth.  I brought it to a full boil on the stove, added the quinoa and some salt and pepper to taste.  It turned out nicely.

My youngest is not a fan of eating.  He never has been much of an eater.  I was really worried when at 18 months of age he weighed eighteen pounds.  I was buying him milkshakes to try to fatten him up.  Our doctor said not to worry, that he would probably just be naturally lean.  She’s right.  He just had a physical though and while he is in the 90th percentile for height, he is in the 40th percentile for weight which makes him almost off the curve on the combined scale.  So finally, even the pediatrician said something to him about his eating.

Thing is, the kid likes fruit, vegetables, candy and hot dogs and that’s about it.  However, last night he said, “Mom, if you make dinner like this every night, I will eat it.

Salmon, quinoa and green beans.

Before my diagnosis, I wasn’t that concerned about the meat in our house being organic.  I tried when I could but organic is pricey.  Since my diagnosis, we are eating a lot less meat so I almost always buy organic.

Another bonus to making my own broth is that it is much more environmentally friendly than buying it from the store.  I am not throwing away cans or those weird paper containers.  I bought some freezable containers and store extra broth in the freezer.

Also, have you actually read the label on commercial broth?  Even the organic kind can often be filled with soybean oil and fillers.

The crock pot makes it easy to do it yourself and you know what is going into it.  This current batch was turkey bones, a couple of carrots and a leek.  I fill the pot with water and it’s good to go.

I just have to remember to air out the house when it is done.

Of course I am Thankful.

But I am also kind of scared.  This little voice whispers to me.  Is this my last Thanksgiving?

Morbid.  I know.  Depressing.  You bet.

But the thought is there all the same.

All I can do is take it day by day.

I know there is that whole “Get hit by a bus” theory.  You know, “I’m perfectly healthy and I could get hit by a bus tomorrow.”

That truly is always a possibility.

There is something about what I have gone through.  What I am going through.  If I am not careful.  Well, I just get scared.  It is scary.

Today I made cranberry sauce.  And two pumpkin pies.  Later I will roast the yams.  Tomorrow morning I will get up to roast the turkey. I will boil potatoes and make stuffing.  Bake an apple pie.   And the day will be lovely.

I hope it’s not my last.

We went to the library and got some movies.  We went to the store and bought some socks for the youngest child whose feet will soon be bigger than his older brother’s feet.  How does that work? Almost four years difference.  Big puppy feet that child has.  His feet are so big that his toes put holes in the old socks.

I am so thankful.  I really am.

And I want more.

I was supposed to go to a party tonight but I am exhausted.  I am still recuperating.  My pajamas are calling me.

I can hear Charlie Brown Thanksgiving in the other room.

My life is so good.

I want more.  Please. I want more.

There is a study that says drinking three cups of green tea a day can help prevent recurrence.

I thought that would be an easy little thing to do.

Green tea provides a great deal of antioxidants and it is different from traditional tea because it has not been fermented.

There is just one problem… I do not like green tea.  At all.

But I forced myself.  I added lemon.  I was drinking it and I discovered another problem.

My intestinal tract does not like green tea either.

My husband made me stop drinking it when I  was at my lowest.  I have not restarted.  And I feel kind of down about it.

I found an article that said this is a common problem.  There were some ideas for making green tea more palatable.  Like putting milk in it.  I hate milk.

I am going to try again with decaf green tea which seems a bit gentler and has a bit lesser of benefits.  Gotta start somewhere.

But it’s funny because you can read studies and try stuff but I believe a lot of it all has to do with your own body make up and metabolism.

And really, do I need to beat myself up because green tea makes me nauseated and after 6 months of perpetual nauseation, I would like a break?

No.  I think that is fair.

I am trying very hard to be good.  Make better food choices and exercise.  But mostly, I’m just trying to enjoy myself and be happy.  Green tea does not make me happy.  Coffee does.  And hey, i just read an article that says coffee can be beneficial too.  I’ll take it where I can get it.

I am doing pretty well all things considered.

I did not get out of radiation unscathed.  Two days after I finished, I developed a deep red mark in the place between my neck and collar.  The skin was creasing and sticking together and then pulling apart when I moved my head and became quite irritated.  It is still a deep red and is now beginning to peel.  So I guess it’s a burn?  I don’t know.

In the last couple of days, I have some new redness about an inch below.  It’s a bigger area but so far it is not as deep a red.  The first wound looks like I got burned on my neck with a hot poker, this second one looks like a bad sunburn.  The first wound is beginning to peel.  I am not touching it.  I just put aloe and calendula cream on it and the occasional dab of neosporin.  The nurse said it will probably take two or three weeks before anything really heals.  The burn is coming from the inside out.

It looks much worse than it feels.

I am walking for exercise.  I just started yesterday in earnest.  Last week, I did 1 mile walks several times.  Yesterday I walked three miles with my friend and my dog.  Today I did it again with the dog.  Can I just say, the dog is thrilled?  She loves her walkies.  I am hoping to continue these walks daily and increase the mileage weekly.  I have to get ready for that 15k I signed up for that is happening mid-January.

As expected, I gained thirty pounds during treatment.  That is a lot.  I blame it all on the steroids.  It is coming off already and I am not as moon-faced as I was even a week ago.  I didn’t actually know how much I had gained until my last day of radiation.  I looked for the first time in months when I was weighed and even though I knew I had put on a lot (as non of my clothing is fitting me) I was shocked to see how much I weighed.  I weigh more than I did on the day I delivered my second child.  Yikes.

But the good news was that I had already lost two pounds from the previous weigh in the week before.

I am trying not to beat myself up about the huge gain.  I plan to lose it slowly over my recovery.  It stinks that nothing fits but I keep telling myself it is temporary.

My hair is also slowly returning.  I would say it is about 3/4 of an inch long.  Long enough to ditch the wigs and hats.  I am just glad it came back.

My eyebrows originally came in white but are now beginning to darken up.  My eyelashes are back and about half their normal length which is still pretty long.  I feel myself again.  It’s a good thing.

I am eating better, sleeping better and getting exercise so I feel pretty good.

I feel like it’s almost time to get out in the world again.

It is not my job to fix things I didn’t break.

So I’m not going to.

And I am learning to be ok with that.

Woke up NOT feeling nauseated.  Hooray!

I saw the “Survivorship” case worker (it WAS the same person I saw last time!).  I went to the grocery store.  I picked up the boys from school.  I did laundry.  I made banana bread.  I made dinner.

Good for me!

I told Ms. Survivorship about my Oncologist issues and that I was not feeling heard.  And that I am certainly not going to just lay down and “be comfortable” if anything dire happens.

She was very empathetic and set me up with a second opinion from another oncologist.  She also gave me excellent tips on handling everything.  She was extremely supportive and I feel good about the visit.

I am kind of freaked out at the moment.  Being done with treatment is wonderful but also scary.  Very scary.  I over think a lot and I can freak myself out.  But really everything needs to be one day at a time.  And I have to work on keeping gloom and doom and worst case scenarios out of my busy monkey mind.