Day 66 - Chrome Dome

I have been the lucky recipient of a lot of head covers in the last 66 days.  Scarves, Hats, Buffs, Caps, Berets, Beanies.  If it can cover your head I have it.

There was a time in my life when I was very successful in sending heartfelt thank you notes, unfortunately my friends that day has passed.  If I could I would write each person that took time out of their busy lives to think of me, and drop a hat in the mail. 

I would make Ms. Manners proud. 

My mom did have a good suggestion - why not post a photo of my mug in each of the hats I have received.  So here goes:

Today I am wearing a scarf from my friend Brittni - it is of coarse vintage - because that is the kind of girl Britt is - and it keeps my bald head warm even though it is June my head is still cool. 

Got bossy with my super bossy boss today- I think the only reason I got away with it is the scarf on my head. 

d

Day 65 - Ghost

I'm so over chemo.  I feel this way about it right around 5 days post treatment each time .  I wake up in the morning, ready to conquer the day, and by around 1pm I just want to find my way back in bed and sleep.

Chemo makes me feel like a ghost in my own life.  I sort of float in and out of the kids lives, in and out of my work life, in and out of all my relationships.  I really want to solidly be there, trust me I do, but most of the time I am struggling to stay upright.

But Casper was a friendly ghost right...think of me that way.

Some days I worry about what I am missing, how much the kids are noticing - just 7 months ago that photo right over there was taken.  This was one of the best days as a Duck fan I have ever experienced.  Doesn't my hair look good?  Don't I look healthy?  No ghost here.

Well by my count - I have 12 more chemo treatments.  Beginning July 8th I have them once a week - so that means by the time I am finished the Ducks will be just 2 games into their schedule.  By the time we meet the Beavers in November my hair will be growing back.

And I will no longer be a ghost.

Day 62 - Volleyball

Today while I was resting I stumbled upon the USA Men's Volleyball team on ESPN.  There was a time, long long ago, where you might be able to catch me on TV playing a game.  Today I watched someone that I used to babysit play.

I have identified myself as an athlete for the majority of my life.  For a while there it was my singular identity.  There was not a weekend of my youth that did not include a sporting event or two.  In college I focused on my volleyball career more than my academic one.

After I retired from volleyball it took me a long time to slowly shut down that part of me.  Many of my Elephant Girlfriends were made on one team or another, and most of my personal success was found on a court.  To walk away from that is difficult.  But no matter how many years I spend away from the girl I used to be,  I still feel her competitive spirit.

A few years ago I was completely taken aback when I was inducted into the University of Oregon Athletic Hall of fame.  It was nice to dip my toe back into my past.  To relive my glory days, even for just one night.

As I fight through chemo, and my cancer weeks, I wonder, will I someday feel about cancer the way I now feel about my athletic career.  Will it be a distant memory?  Will it almost seem like someone else life?  Will anyone other than myself even remember what this all felt like?

Personally I hope so.  Kind of like how the boy who I used to babysit, who now plays on the US National Team will never remember me, I hope my friends and family will soon put this behind us.  We can remember it once in a while, but it will be great when it slowly fades from all of our memories.

d

Day 60 - Parking

I am a big believer in Karma - and a huge fan of instant Karma.  A good example is typically found in the actions of my children.  One kid will bop the other on the head, and then two seconds later bang their leg on a table trying to escape, suffering a far more painful injury than the one administered 3 seconds previous. 

As John Lennon said, "Instant Karma's gonna get you, Gonna knock you right on the head".

Parking out at Nike requires serious karma.  If you are in the office by 7am then no problem.  But if you are running late, or say coming in from a Dr.'s appointment even 5 minutes after 8am you are smoked. 

However, if you have cancer it seems you will never have a problem finding the choicest of spots.  I keep thinking I should request a handicap parking pass, but the universe seems to be taking care of me in the parking department. 

Or it may just be cancer karma...

A lot of the tiny arguments that Doug and I have gotten in over the years seem to revolve around parking.  Being the New Yorker that he is, he feels like he has won the lottery if he can find a parking spot half a mile away from his destination.  I get this in NY - but this makes zero sense to me in the Costco parking lot. 

Women from California have the amazing ability to find parking even in the most desperate situations (black Friday at South Coast Plaza).  It is a simple technique - circle until you find someone leaving the mall...stalk them slowly until they hopefully jump in a car in your lane, park.  Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezie.

Doug just thinks I suffer from magical thinking. 

Tomorrow I will take my good cancer karma, my magical thinking, and one of my oldest (and defiantly tallest)  friends with me to Chemo. 

And I am sure we will find a good parking spot.

d

d

Day 59 - Celebrate

I feel like sometimes having cancer is like being pregnant in the 50's.  Didn't women go into hiding as soon as they were showing - or wore huge terrible a-line shirts trying to fool the world that they had not swallowed a beach ball?

Trying to hide that you are going through chemo is sort of like that.  My head is bald, my skin is dry, and I am just pooped a lot of the time.  It is impossible to hide all of that - and I refuse to disappear from my life.

So tonight we are off to celebrate a great friend opening his second movie theater here in Portland.  What I am most proud of for tonight is that our friend is a cancer survivor who faced his diagnosis and battled his way through treatment to come out the other side changed for the better.

I am looking forward to the night when we can all say the same about me.



d

Day 58 - Five

My little girl turned 5 today - and overnight she seems to have grow up so much.  Her favorite color is still pink, she still dreams of becoming a Unicorn Horsey Pegasus someday, but she is also starting to shed her little girl skin.

I don't really want her to grow up - that is the hard part of being a parent, watching your children get older, since it inevitably means you are getting older too.  But in watching Harper, I also see myself reflected right back at me.  She is stubborn, she is feisty, she is super Bossy.

As for me, I am mentally preparing for the last of my "big" chemo treatments on Friday.  This is a bit of a milestone as I will be finishing off the more difficult of the cocktails I am receiving during my stay here in cancerland.  I am looking forward to this part being over, and moving onto my next phase of treatment.

Hopefully we will continue to progress in the same manner.  As I told a friend today chemo is not for the faint of heart.  But mine is big, and gorgeous, and ready to go - a lot like a 5 year old little girl.

d

Day 56 - Pops

I can still remember all of the details of where I was when my mother first called me to tell my my father had Pancreatic Cancer.

It was September 1996, Doug and I were living in New York, and I had never felt so far away from my family in my life.  In November I would be back in my childhood home taking care of my father as my mom tried to lead a normal life.  By March, he would be gone.  At only 53.

I often say the two smartest things I have done in my life were to marry Doug and to take time off from work to just be with my ailing father.  We never discussed dying, didn't even really talk about cancer much.  I made a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches, took a lot of walks, and simply spent time with him.

His mantra while fighting cancer was, "one more day", hoping to string those along forever.

He has missed out on a lot.  He never met his grandchildren, he didn't get to grow old with my mom, he didn't see me beat cancer.

I think about him every day - strangely my own cancer has brought me so much closer to him.  We are now sharing something that I could have never imagined.  The only difference is I am the one lucky enough to get the JV version of cancer - the type he had was of the Varsity sort.

So to all of you lucky enough to still have your dad in your life, I envy you.  But don't be sad for me, I  had the greatest dad in the world.

d

Day 53 - Girlfriends

It is incredible how many girlfriends one can accumulate by the time you reach your 40's.  It helps to have lived in the same city for over a decade, to have worked at a few different companies, and to have children.  But the true amazement comes when you see how quickly a group of women will circle their wagons around you.

I was reminded of a story a friend told me long ago of how Elephants are such social, pack animals that even a separation of years, of decades, does not diminish their love for an original member of the pack.  When reunited they fall into their past roles, and settle into old relationships as if no time has passed.

This is what has been happening for me lately.  My pack of Elephants just keeps circling, checking in on me every now and again, nudging me with their trunks.  Every day I am the lucky recipient of multiple expressions of love.  I wondered in the beginning if and when the newness of my situation would wear off and people would get back to their busy lives - and that day has not come.

I am not sure how to repay this kindness, this genuine concern.  The best idea I have come up with is to simply come to the end of this dance with cancer a stronger, more loyal elephant.

d

Day 52 - Breaking the Ice

So I walked into a meeting today full of Nike store managers all excited for me to show them what their new stores are going to look like.  Not one for uncomfortable silences or for ignoring the obvious I blurted out," Hi I am Dawnn, I usually have hair, and I usually don't have cancer.  Next time you see me this will be reversed".

Those of you who know me can appreciate my humor - those 15 people who didn't know me before today were really shocked, uncomfortable, and confused.  I thought I was so clever, so bold, so...funny.  The store managers sort of, well, grimaced.

There should be a manual for people with obvious medical conditions and the general public.  I am stumped with how to just talk about this stuff with strangers.  My usual MO is to use humor (see above story).  The head of my department offered me a potato chip the other day and I said, "no thanks I already have cancer".  Too much?  Too soon?  I say hilarious!

Listen I just want you all to be comfortable with me, lets get this cancer stuff out in the open, and then can we just move on.  Like I have said before cancer is both incredibly inconvenient and profoundly boring, but I am determined to make it socially awkward too!

What I really want to cut through is any unnecessary sympathy thrown my way - and as with anything let's all just try and have some fun with the situation.

And if it is at the expense of a few shocked store managers then so be it.

Heal and Deal - and let's all try and laugh while we are doing it.

d

Day 51 - Marathon

Chemo sort of makes you feel like you are at mile 18.  If you have ever run the Portland Marathon, (which I will brag forever that I ran...once), you know what I am talking about.  After miles and miles of flat street scape, Mile 18 hits you with a climb over the St. John's Bridge.

Reaching mile 18 feels like you have accomplished a lot, it really does,but you really have not gotten anywhere, except a long way from home. 

At this point in the race there is simply no place to bail.  That is the beauty of this marathon, at around mile 22 there is no exit chute, no sag wagon, no one else to get you to the finish line except yourself.

You follow.

All of this is OK.  I have run a marathon, I have reached mile 18, and I have looked for an exit chute and realized that I didn't need one - I had people waiting for me at the finish line, cheering me on.

Bossy Bossy Bossy

d

Day 50 - Worlds Best Patient

It is dawning on me that this whole worlds best patient contest really is not going to be very hard.  I have taken a look at my competition, and truthfully, I got this in the bag.

To highlight the lack of competitors let me tell you about the woman I met at Chemo on Friday.  She honestly looked me in the eye and told me that she was going to try to quit smoking before her surgery in 2 months. 

Now I am not sure if it is just me but seriously lady!  I quit drinking coffee the day I found out!  I am working on somehow removing sugar and white flour completely.  Pretty sure it is a decent idea to drop the CANCER STICKS.

All this got me to thinking about survival rates.  I didn't want to know anything about the survival rate of my cancer but stumbled upon it one day.  Nothing about it scares me because I know what side of that percentage I am going to be on.  And don't forget any survival rate also includes people who do not take this cancer thing too seriously - read the last paragraph again if you are not sure what I am talking about.

A friend of mine faced a much more dire survival rate, one that would give anyone pause.  His mantra to himself each morning, "why not me".  Today he lives cancer free. 

I think that is how we should all live our lives - be brave enough to ask, "why not me", and bossy enough to get what you want in life, and when you get thrown and bumpy patch - heal and deal.

d

Day 45 - Chemo tomorrow

Back from my business trip just in time for Chemo #3.  Chemo sort of sneaks up on you.  Like I have said before when I am feeling good I completely forget that I have cancer, let alone chemo treatments to look forward to. 

The other day Doug and I were chatting on the phone, and decided to meet at or favorite tea shop.  I told him, "I will be the cute bald chick in the back". 

Later he shared that it had completely taken him aback.  He said that even with my bald head he just doesn't see me that way.  Bald or not he still sees me as the 20 year old he met all those years ago.  This will be quite advantageous in my 50's, 60's, 70's and beyond.

So with that sweet story in my heart, I have my friend chemo to greet tomorrow morning. Here's to a simple treatment, with minimal side effects and maximum effectiveness.

d

Day 43 - "You are such a trooper"

I love that phrase - to me it means you trudged through something, without complaint.  And when you boss tells you that, well then it is a double good thing.

Now I don't quite agree with her, you see today we had to hop on a private jet, look at some real estate, slip into a 5 star hotel, and then have a really good dinner.  Sure by dessert I was ready for a hot bath, but trust me today was a breeze.  Plus I had the right seat at dinner, dead center, you know the seat, the one where you can jump from conversation to conversation with ease.

I did get the hushed cancer conversation from one of my seatmates.  Someone who basically told me he was afraid he had some fatal disease and would I please provide him with the magic understanding of how one discovers they have cancer.  And by that I think he means, in time to do something about it.

Part of this cancer thing it seems is trying to help other people through their fears of what you are actually facing yourself.  Thankfully it is not like childbirth with every woman sharing their birthing horror stories.  Although I have had more than one person tell me about a relative who just died a horrible cancer death.  Note to the public at large - this is not helpful :).

So I guess my boss is right - I am a trooper, but not for the reasons she thinks.

d

Day 42 - "I don't know how you do it"

I have been hearing that a lot lately, and honestly I really don't have an answer.  Perhaps it is a genetic thing.  Everyone works, and works hard in our families.  I see it in my sisters as well.  We are not a group of women that feels the world owes us anything.  We like a  hard days work, followed by some nice rewards.

This is how I have always lived.  If you had played a sport with me you would probably understand - I just have a natural game face I guess. 

Doug would also agree - after giving birth to two children, and on my second push for the third, he turned to me and said, "remember it only took 3 pushes for the other kids", and what do you know, push number three and we had Harris. 

I usually tell people they would behave the same way, and I honestly believe you would.  If you had a life as great as mine, you would work really hard to keep it.  Look around you and at all that you have and imagine what you would do. 

It would probably surprise you too.

Get Bossy.

d

Day 41 - What a long strange trip it has been

This weekend I ran into multiple acquaintances who had no idea who I was.  It was interesting to know that the first thought registered was, "who is this chemo patient", then a little, "humm, I think I know this person" - but never a complete realization as to who I was. 

I was with Doug each time, and I usually just faded back into the shadows and let him deal with it.  I remember these reactions when my father was obviously sick, and it pissed me off to no end.  Cashiers would only speak to me, on some occasions family friends would avoid him.  But I remember those who had no problem facing his illness, and I know who has no problems with mine.

Honestly most of the time people are very kind, we get a little extra leeway everywhere we go.  Most of the time I think people are being kind to the mother with 3 little kids, and then I remember...ah, they are being kind to the kids with the chemo patient mother.

Today a woman I barely know just looked at me and said, "I am soooo sorry" - and I just ignored her.  Sorry for what?  Trust me lady this cancer thing is going to end up being one of the better things that ever happened to me.  At 40 I get to learn who has my back, who is unafraid of the scary stuff, and who is willing to just listen to my story. 

Speaking of feeling the love - my mother is with her brothers and sisters in Oklahoma, and I received this photo from my Aunties and Cousins:

That right there is a group of incredibly Bossy women, each in her own special way.  I love them all, and only wish I was in the middle of this photo.  They are unafraid of my illness - and I feel their support everyday.

Happy Sunday everyone - I need to go get Bossy with the Eikenkids.

Day 39 - "Harris, Daddy is just trying to teach you, and keep you safe"

I think Doug experienced his proudest parenting moment to date when Graham said that to Harris.  He said his heart warmed by 10 degrees in an instant.  Two things happened simultaneously.  Graham showed a maturity beyond his 6 years and Doug realized his words are getting through.

Doug is a pretty exceptional guy.  He is the rare man that is not intimidated, or concerned about his wife's success. 

He is the first to brag about any of my accomplishments, and has supported a career that takes me away from home more than most.  He lived through the crazy lucy years when all I could think about was that great company, and is now incredibly patient with me, even on my worst days.

He has always encouraged my Bossiness.  He is the most positive, kind person I know.  He has made me a much better Dawnn, rounded off my edges, warmed my heart.

Doug has been teaching me and keeping me safe for over 20 years.

Day 38 - Sunshine

All our plans this weekend revolve around the weather.  As a friend said, "accuweather, if you are wrong about this warm and sunny weekend thing...."  All of us up here in the green, lush, beautiful NW are ready to get our sun on. 

Remind me to plan a warm getaway in May next year.  It really is the cruelest month in Oregon.  While the rest of the country is flirting with sunny 70+ degree days, we are still in our rain coats and boots.  And I could really go without the photos of sunny So Cal friends on Memorial Day weekend at the beach.  Here we freeze, on the coast.

Sure there are those who push the issue, and flatly refuse to wear the appropriate clothing past April.  I have seen a lot of wet flip flops this week, as if somehow the mere defiance of footwear could change the weather pattern.

So here's to a great weekend.  I am feeling much better now that the chemo has had a chance to work its way through my body.  Battles are raging within the cells of my body, which I can actually feel.  The good guys are winning each day.  And while I tend to live in the moment, I am looking forward to the sunshine to last all the way until September, when this will all be over.

d

Day 37 - I am bald

This reality hits me each morning when I wake up.  I have never been one to stare at my visage for more than the cursory, do I have any eye boogers, nose boogers, is my hair under control, moments.  So when I do catch a glimpse of my bald head in the mirror I am usually taken aback.

It's not so bad really - logically it should shorten your morning routine, but it adds one more piece of wardrobe you must consider each morning; hat or scarf. 

Trying to get pants, shoes, shirt and now hat/scarf to be coordinated in any sensible way can be a challenge, especially if you have only given yourself about 15 minutes to get it all together because of your significantly shorter morning routine, which now you realize needs to compensate for previously mentioned wardrobe issues.

And given that I only glimpse at myself in the mirror (we do not have a full length in our house - another challenge) I get to work some days and can't believe what I am wearing.  Which leads to a bigger question:

Will it freak everyone out if I just walk around with a bald head?

Yule Brenner did it, Michael Jordan does it - why not me?

Well it is actually not for me.  I have taken my hat off in my office a few times, and I feel, well, naked with out it.  I am not fooling anyone, it is obvious that my hair has gone missing, but very few women can really rock a totally bald head.  And people I am not one of them.

So hat and scarves it will be for the next 4 months - I am just going to have to give my self a little more time in the morning to get it all together.