Day 239 - get packing

Getting our family ready to catch a plane is always a huge endeavor. The toys, underwear, socks, toothbrushes, backpacks, snacks...you get the picture.

But we have always traveled. Graham took his first plane trip at 2 months old. Each kid has a passport. In fact they have been itching to get on a plane for a while now.

Tomorrow we are heading down to my hometown, Huntington Beach, for a little GiGi time for the kids, and a little Rose Bowl for me and Doug.

I am looking forward to seeing some old friends, and watching the sun set on 2011. It has been a year to remember that is for sure.

One that I am happy to send packing.

Day 238 - Flash

One of the oh so many perks of going through chemo therapy is that it typically causes menopause, sometimes temporary, other times permanent.

Chemo kids like to call it Chemopause...so clever.

It mixes really well with my Chemobrain + Momnesia

I don't have a big problem with it, except for one aspect, HOT flashes.

Sometimes the flashes are more like a contraction.  They build, and build, and build, and right before you feel like you may internally cumbust, they slowly abate.

Other times they arrive in a flash (ha!), and disappear just as quickly.

The worst is when they arrive and induce an Albert Brooks / Broadcast News flop sweat.  This happens about once a day, and I find it about as funny as he did - which means not at all.

Day 254 - resolute

I am not one to make resolutions.

Perhaps I have come to a point in my life where I don't do anything in extremes.

Or perhaps I am just lazy.

At a dinner party last night I was asked what being diagnosed with cancer has changed in our lives.

For me it hasn't been a single major shift, but small gradual ones.

I try not to rush through experiences.
I try to be a better listener.
I try to be a better mother.

On Saturday we took the kids to our usual Christmas Eve candle light service at the Unitarian Church, a little tradition we began back when Graham was a baby.

I sat, with Harris in my lap, and Doug, Graham and Harper behind me.  At one point I turned and looked at all of them, and felt big giant Hollywood tears plop out of my eyes.

Really, it was just like that.  No quivering chin, no snotty nose, just big beautiful tears.

I was so grateful to be there, to have that moment with them.  Even when the candle wax burned Harper's leg and she screamed like an axe murderer was chasing her...

I love all of it, the Christmas Eve's and the messy parts in-between. 

I want to be here for all of it.

So in 2012 I will resolve to be one thing.

Healthy.

Day 251- I hope you all get the gifts you need this year

I have reached the age where I no longer want or need anything on Christmas morning. 

All I have is either within me, around me, or next to me as I sleep each night.

It has been here for a while.

But for some of us it just takes a little longer to notice. 

Now that I see it.

I know there is no greater gift for me to receive.

Day 250 - sleep, recover, repeat

I slept like rumplestilskin yesterday. My day looked something like this:

Wake up at 5am for shower

Kiss children and whisper, "always remember mama loves you" in their warm ears.

Drive less than one mile to hospital.

Check in at front desk

Sit in waiting room surrounded by 3 other patients and their families. I wonder what each person was there for, assuming it must be something urgent considering how close to the holidays we were.

Walk back to surgery waiting area, holding Doug's hand.

Put on hospital gown (insert bad hospital gown joke here).

Nurse gives me green socks, and puts a plastic blanket on me that is pumped full of warm air, apparently since operating rooms are so cold, patients shiver a lot, and since shivering takes
away from the body's ability to heal, one must stay as warm as possible.

Insert IV (nurse nailed it on the first try)

Stand up for Dr. Z to take a sharpie to my skin.

Wheel down to operating room,awake (but thankfully with a little vicodin).
- for my port surgery I was wheeled into the operating room wide awake, having declined the vicodin, never in my life have I felt so alone, it was horrible. I have accepted the pre-meds ever since).

Slip over to the operating table which is about half the width of a twin bed.

Anesthesiologist (who happened to be our old next door neighbor when we first moved to Portland) tells me I am going to start to feel warm.....

Wake up in recovery room telling the nurses I just want to go home and go to sleep. Takes them a while to wake me up enough for this to actually happen.

Get home, smile at my sister, smile at my kids, snuggle into bed and sleep for what felt like forever. (at one point Doug had our babysitter checking to make sure I was breathing every half an hour).

Woke up for a few hours, then slept until my 6:45am Graham wake up call.

Feeling pretty good today, so thankful that this part of my year with breast cancer is over.

Next up Radiation.

And yes, my boobs look fantastic.

I guess Christmas came early for me this year.

Day 240-

Since October I have been expanding; in more ways than one.

Today I stopped. I got big enough, and one can only take so much growth.

I am glad to be home, the new and improved me.

More tomorrow. Tonight I just need to heal and deal.

D

Day 239 - I thought 3 kids in 3 years was crazy

Here we sit on the eve of my 3rd surgery this year.

I am actually looking forward to this one. From what I understand any pain associated with this surgery is negated by the pure pleasure of no longer having expanders in my body.

We have to check into the hospital at 530am. When I told Doug that at least one of us will get to catch up on sleep later he said, "yeah you're getting some Michael Jackson sleep tomorrow"

And something I swore I would never get in my lifetime.

A boob job.

So if you are sipping your latte tomorrow around 730am send some good vibes, prayers, or smoke signals my way.

Like my last anesthesiologist told me, I am going to do great.

Day 238 - Who me?

I ran into some social friends over the weekend.  People who know me, but are not actively participating in this whole Dawnn has cancer thing.

A few things surprised me.

1.  No mention of my hair.  Trust me hair loss, head shape, and hair growth were major topics while undergoing chemotherapy.  Not sure if everyone was being polite or completely self absorbed.  I know I was being one of those.

2.  When I was telling someone about where I was in my treatment I am pretty sure I saw eyes glaze over.  Radiation?  YAWN.  Medication for the rest of my life?  "Well who isn't on something".  I better come up with some interesting  party small talk STAT or else I run the risk of being at total bore.

3.  Pretty sure Doug didn't have to endure any whispered cancer conversations either.  Hopefully he got to talk about the Rose Bowl, the stock market, and his new found "vegetarianism"

A coworker actually apologized for "forgetting what you are going through".

I told her that it was a good sign, I am no longer being defined as someone who has cancer.

I think I get to be myself again.

Day 237

When you have had cancer, sometimes people see you and cry.  

It comes out of no where, and from the unlikeliest sources.  Today it was a waitress who has served our family for years.

I get it. I have done it myself to someone before. Cancer is a super scary word.

Years ago I read this amazing essay about the scariest word in the English language. After much rumination around words like cancer, murder, disemboweled, the author landed on unless.

The plane will land safely unless...
Your daughter will be ok unless...

Unless is sort of like the monster under the bed.

But now that I have won the cancer lottery, I would say that no word has ever scared me more. 

Cancer has some serioulsy well deserved bad PR.

I have wondered if I will ever feel like cancer was a blessing.  That it has changed me in so many ways that it was worth it.

I doubt it.

Cancer sucks.

It makes a lot of people cry.

Day 234 - exposed

Part of my ongoing treatment includes massage therapy. For obvious reasons I have not had a massage in the last 2 months.  The idea of laying face down for any length of time has zero appeal.

My body has been aching ferociously for the last week, so I decided I was ready to start back at it. My usual therapist was not available until after the holidays so Doug made me an appointment with his.

When I entered the women's changing room I suddenly became self-conscious. Let's be honest here, no matter how liberal you are, seeing a chest, mid reconstruction, would be a shocking sight.

I was reminded of the time I was in the very same changing room with a woman whose arms were covered in obvious, fresh, self inflicted cutting wounds.

It was a visual shock, but more shocking was the brutal honesty they portrayed. She was not trying to hide herself in any way.  In fact, I remember her walking from the changing room to the sauna completely naked.

But I wasn't ready for such a revelation today. So I turned my back to the room as I got undressed.

The massage was good and painful at the same time. It was hard to float on my expanded chest. When it came time to roll over I felt like a baby seal trying to flop back out to the ocean.  My arms seemed too short, my chest too high.

Back at home I took my usual evening bubble bath.  I don't really love bubbles, but they help cover up my chest since the kids follow me every where I go.

Tonight Harper asked if she could join me, "like we used to do".  I explained to her that I had some scars on my chest that I just wasn't ready to show her yet. 

Someday I will.  I will explain it all to her.  And she will understand that to be different is ok.

And to be willing to let the world see your difference is what it means to be brave.

Just not tonight.

Day 233 - This

People ask me all the time how I am getting through all of this. 

This, that I am getting through is just that, this. 

It is not all that there is, but I will carry this around for a while. 

This has seeped into my pores.

So deep.

Eventually you will forget that it is even there. 

But I won't.

This has left scars.

Day 230 - What century are we in?

We went to a great party last night.  A much needed distraction after, upon my suggestion, we saw the movie, The Decedents.

This is not to say the movie was bad.  In fact it was quite excellent.  But 10 minutes into it I realized that the plot revolves around a dying mother, her husband and children.

Enough said.

At the party we ran into some great old friends.  And of coarse the topic of cancer had to come up.

I was explaining to someone about the surgeries, the expansion, the port, and she said, "That is some midevil shit happening".

Which is really true, if you think about it.  I wouldn't be surprised if the next treatment included blood letting and leeches.

But like I have said a million times.  We are throwing the kitchen sink at this.

Midevil or not.

Day 228 - Who's the bigger boob?

Over the last 228 days an overwhelming abundance of amazing things have been said, written, and thought about me. 

But every once in a while incredibly stupid things have been said too.

"I hope they caught it in time"
"I never want to get cancer"
"How long do you have to live?"

As crazy as those interactions were, what happened last night took the cake.

I was out with Doug and happened upon someone I have met before, but I reintroduced myself since he didn't seem to be able to place me. 

"Ken" replied, "oh yeah you are Doug's wife, the one with cancer".

And without pausing to take a breath he said.

"Are you going to go for bigger boobs?"

I felt like Cindy Brady looking at the red light.  I just sat there, staring, not blinking, not knowing what to say.

I consider myself a pretty smart, witty person.  But I had nothing.  The gaffe was so phenomenal I could not believe it was happening, in real time, to me.

So I simply walked away.

For those of you wondering, no I am not going for bigger boobs. 

But rest assured, they will be spectacular.

Day 227 - Hi, my name is Dawnn and I had cancer...

Awkward cancer moment #342

My new boss started this week.  Officially.  We have had a few meetings together over the last several weeks, but today was the first time that we were able to sit down together one on one.

We dove right into business - she wanted to know where she could support me, etc, the usual new boss stuff.

At the end she asked me if there was anything else, so I offered, "we should go over where I am with my cancer treatment..."

Blank stare...

"You have cancer?"

Blink, blink, blink.

"Um, I thought you knew..."

blink...

"You would be surprised by what I do not know."

small laugh

"Do you seriously think I would choose to wear my hair this way?"

So I gave her the cliff notes version of where I have been, and what is next regarding my treatment. 

Then I showed her the photo of my office full of balloons and told her, "the team you are working with did that for me".

And then she cried.

I think we are going to get along just fine.

Day 226 - Trust

A week after I was diagnosed, Doug and I kept a previosly scheduled appointment with our lawyer. We had finally shamed ourselves enough to create a trust for our children, as well as our advanced health care directives.

I have always been one to love irony, but the timing was ridiculous.

For years I have joked to Doug to, "Drive safe" since it is my firm belief that if he were to leave me a widow no one in their right mind would want to take on a 40+ year old woman with 3 small kids.

He asked me how long it would be before I cleared out everything in the garage, to which I replied, "about 30 days".

Once I got cancer, this became a little less funny.

Actually a lot less.

Because in all previous scenarios I was the one who got to live.

Day 225- filler up

Had my last fill today.

I think I am as happy about that as I was when I had my last chemo.

I promptly came home,put my jammies on, threw back some pain meds, and here I will stay for the remainder of the night.

My surgery is on for the 22nd, and I will be thrilled to have this part of the process behind me. And trust me, it is a process.

Somedays it gets really overwhelming.

I walked passed someone today and envied how carefree their day must be compared to mine. I let that thought pass through me and out. No need for such thinking to linger. It really isn't going to do me much good.

But it is there.

We already had so much on our plates; careers, young children, our relationship with each
other, our friends and family.

I didn't have time for this whole cancer thing.

Day 224 - A perfect morning...

Harper takes a trip to Pete's Coffee with Daddy.  Brings home treats for everyone.

Bundle up and drive out to our favorite Christmas Tree farm.

Tractor ride out to the "North Pole"

Visit with Santa.  Whisper toy requests in his ear

Run around looking for just the right tree

Cheer as Daddy cuts it down.

Sit by a bonfire roasting marshmallows and making smores.

Choose a new Christmas Ornament.

All before noon.

Day 223 - Christmas Lists

I sat down with each of the kids today to write out their Christmas Lists.  Graham wants Lego's, and a skateboard.  Harper is hoping for a playmobile serpent and a $50 T-Rex (?).  Harris will be lucky to get anything other than coal in his stocking, but if he can somehow pull off an upset there may be a monster truck with purple flames underneath the tree for him this year.

My favorite Christmas, from a loot perspective, was when I was in 3rd grade.  My father had been making a desk for a family "friend" for about a month.  He even asked my opinion on a few details.  I remember wishing the desk was for me, and was super surprised when on Christmas morning it was waiting for me. 

This is also the year that my sisters and I got our own phone, and phone number.  I am sure this was more of a  gift to my parents more than us.

My favorite Christmas, from an experience perspective, is the year we all piled into our van (kids born in the Southern California 70's, you remember the van years), along with our Uncle, and drove from California to Oklahoma.  I swear my mom drugged our food because I don't remember any part of the drive, just the fun we had all being together.

It was also the last year that I was the youngest Grandchild.  Being the youngest, I got to open my presents first - which was awesome. 

I hope we are creating great memories for the Eikenkids.  Sometimes I wonder what they will remember.

This year I am sure it will be the loot.

Day 221 - freshman

I ran into my freshman year dorm roommate tonight and it was like breathing in fresh sunshine.

We probably had not seen each other since we graduated in 1992. Sure we had kept tabs on each other over the years, Facebook helps that a lot, but seeing each other in the flesh and blood is really different.

What surprises me the most is that someone who lived with me when I was eighteen is not only still speaking to me, but genuinely excited to see me.

I knew that she had lost her father in the last year to cancer, and that her mom was recently diagnosed with a reoccurance of breast cancer. Somehow what I write here in this blog has helped her, and for that I am forever grateful.

Frankly I get so much more out of honestly portraying my experience with cancer than you can imagine. It is not always easy, it is not always funny, but it is always how it is.

Probably much like living with me in 1988.