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It’s Friday, It’s Friday

I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer as of late. My blog was supposed to be a depressing catalog of infertility ramblings, rather than a depressing site dedicated to my feelings about cancer. I apologize if I have thrown you off subject.

You’ll be happy to know that Day 1 “DPO” (haha with an FET you can almost pretend you are doing this the normal way because you are following somewhat of  a cycle), and I have no progesterone symptoms yet. Oh, don’t think I’m that naive, I know that they are coming. I said YET. By this time next week I can assure you that I will be a raving lunatic all hopped up on hormones.

One of the things about cancer is that it affects all people differently. Hearing about it for the first time, many people offer condolences. Many just shake thier head quietly and look away. Some are emboldended to ask the tough questions, but mostly those are the people who really have no business asking at all. They are emotionally removed but want the gory details. Then there are the people who have loved ones who have fought the disease and lost.  There is a chance that my mother could be a survivor, but there is a chance that she could not. There is a chance that sometime in the future I may be one of these people who’s faces plainly reveal a familiarity with the pain that is cancer, as soon as the word is uttered. They have been where I am  now standing. They know the long journey that I am about to embark upon. It is something that only those who have been with someone who has fought cancer can know. They know that words can not prepare me. That there is no book or no doctor given explaination that can prepare me for the horror of watching someone you love endure chemotherapy. Endure being sick. Endure being unable to eat or drink. Endure frightening physical deterioration. I know that they feel sorry for me, but in many cases I know that my admission that the disease has settled itself upon my family opens old wounds for them. Wounds that have quite possibly never healed. My story may dredge up old sadnesses or anger long repressed. There is anger. Cancer is a very maddening disease. It is not selective of who it crawls into, stealing away their strength and taking over cells. It does not care if you have children or a husband or a wife or grand kids or future plans. It only cares that you have blood and tissue and cells to feed on. It is a hungry disease and it will eat you away, giving no thought to the massive destruction that it leaves behind. And the guilt. There is such guilt. About not spending enough time, about not feeling the right way,  about feeling angry at the disease. Maybe even at the person for being sick. We feel guilty for not knowing sooner.  We knew she wasn’t feeling well, why didn’t we make her get checked out sooner? How could we not have known? How did we let it get this far without intervening? We should have known that the cancer was there.   There are people that know these feelings. That have been through them. Have been to hell with a loved one but come back alone. That is what cancer does. It leaves you alone.


Today is Over, For That I am Thankful

I will start this post with a bit of TMI, so if you don’t care to know skip ahead….
1) nipples are “bumpy” but NOT veiny. I will need to reflect back on this when I am searching for symptoms. Bumps yes, veins no. Veins were how I knew the last transfer had taken. Note: bumps before transfer = medication side effect.
2) abundant cervical mucous = medication side effect… Just sayin.

So the next part of this post I will start out by saying I love my mom dearly. Ok. So that said, she is the worst freaking patient I have ever laid eyes on. If I were her nurse today I would have quit. God bless June and whoever comes on for the night shift. The woman is a she-devil who chased out 2 of her sisters as well as myself with pure nastiness. (mom I’m sorry if you ever happen across this site, but it’s true-and I also hope to God you never do come across it) I love you dearly but you are a nurse’s worst nightmare.
I am compassionate and caring and loving and I understand that anger is a phase of grief. But we are all human and we are not punching bags. I do not sit by your bed for nine hours a day because it’s fun, I do it because you want me there and need me there and I love you and i would do anything for you. I do it so that you have help and so that you do not feel lonely. I have done things i have not wanted to
do to spare you the grief. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell my
Brother and sister about the cancer. I didn’t want to have to be the one to hold Everyone up when the news was delivered. I was the rock and I had none of my own. I didn’t want that but I did it for you. So dammit, be sad, be angry, be whatever you want to be but please don’t take it out on me, the one person who hasn’t left your side. Because outwardly I am strong, but inwardly I am still your daughter and I am just as scared as you are. I can’t imagine how you feel, but i know what it feels like to fear losing my mother. I may not have to go thru this physically but I will endure it emotionally.
I know this is not about me at all, but still I MUST take my over all health in to consideration.

Monday, I Think, but Does it Really Matter Anyway?

To say that I’ve come a long way would be an understatement. As I said in earlier posts, I’m now queen of my own shots. No biggie. So now, the girl who gets all vomit-y at the thought of anything bodily fluid related just sat and ate pop-chips (gluten free!) with a cup of yuck bile-y stuff from a wound drain right in front of me. DIDN’T. EVEN. FLINCH.

So thats fantastic, let’s see what else…I got stuck in the elevator and had to push the doors open to escape. Not on my list of things I’d ever wanted to do. Panic attack set in but I regained my cool pretty quickly and got the damn doors open. Coulda been worse.

I’ve learned that my mom, God love her, is a pain in the ass in-patient and I feel for her nurses when I’m not here to be at her beck and call. Hospital nurses should get major awards and medals and things, because I’m sure shes not the only one, or even the worst.

I’ve learned that I love hospital social workers. They are amazing people full of compassion and resources and free coffee cart cards 8)

I’ve learned that I really miss my brother even though he only left  yesterday and that he is more important to me than I can even express. I wouldn’t have gotten through the week without him. Ditto for my dad. My parents divorced when I was about 13, but dad was the one who flew my brother in within hours, paid for a hotel room for us so that we didnt have to drive the hour + back and forth, ran errands for us, was there within the hour to comfort me when we got the diagnosis, and was there to sit with us during her surgery.

Tomorrow morning I have an ultrasound to see how things are going. For the first time in all of this, I messed up and left my Lupron bottle (almost empty) out of the fridge when I left the house this morning. Husband made it home and I’m hoping he remembered to put it back in the fridge. I’m also hoping that tomorrow will be my last lupron dose. I can’t even remember when I started it to be honest. I know it was probably about a week before the shit hit the fan around here.  I’m still on 3 estrace tablets a day and will be moving up to four tomorrow. No real side effects, just some over the right ovary twinges.  I can’t tell if I’m more emotional, because well, It has been an emotional week anyway. The worst week, actually. But hey, silver lining, I have had NO TIME to obsess over this FET. I don’t even think about it except when I’m taking my meds. That is nice. I really just hope that it works. And I really just  hope that my mom gets out of here soon and that we can move forward with the rest of her treatment. I hate cancer. I hate it.

Day After Surgery

I am in bed wishing I were still asleep. Now that she has moved from the oncology unit to the post-op floor, we have to follow normal visiting hours which means no staying the night with her and not getting there until 10am. In a way this is a blessing, as it gives us time to rest and regenerate for a long day ahead. My brother leaves to go back go Salt Lake today and I am dreading it. I do not want him to go. My mom’s sisters will start getting in today and tomorrow but I’m afraid the novelty of cancer will wear off and I’ll be stuck as the only caretaker as everyone else goes back to their normal lives. I know that this surgery business is the easy part compared to what’s to come. I fear for my 12 year old sister and what she will have to endure. Her father died. She has already been through so much.

As for FET #1, I’m on 3 estrogen a day right now and am having those vivid hormone dreams. That’s the only thing goin on with that.

Saturday Surgery

I’m getting good. I just did my Lupron shot in the operating waiting room. Which means that yes, my mom is currently in surgery. Need prayers and positive thoughts and energy. And a blanket would bs nice.

Cycle Day Who the F knows

Day 4 (?) of estrogen. No side effects at all. Feeling great physically. Emotionally? Ha. Right.
Mom Is having a bowel resection surgery at 7:15 tomorrow morning. PLEASE PRAY. PLEASE.
I’ll update more when not in Xanax coma.

Nov 17

We have surgery scheduled “tentatively” for Saturday. This is such a mess, I can’t even begin to explain insurance issues, etc, that I am currently in charge of figuring out. Luckily the doctor performing the surgery is kind and the social worker helping me us the kindest. It’s all so surreal.

On the fertility front, day 2 of estrogen, and majorly glad I’m in a hospital for when I pass out from blood loss. I am toast. I can’t even concentrate and I need to go home but how do I do that? I am in charge of all of this. I am over it. But now I’m not allowed to drive per husband because I’m too tired.

Ok I managed to get home since writing that first part and plan to shower, put on my comfiest clothes and veg. The past few days have been a cake walk compared to the days to come.

I must rest.