Heart Damage?

I'm feeling frustrated with the cardiologists review of my tests. I felt like I walked out of there with the usual non-answers. He said the heart was not pumping enough blood as well as it could be and that my heart rate was fast because of that.

I tried to combine that with what we knew from the previous tests, my symptoms, and my previous treatment but he acted as if they were exclusive and would not answer why the heart was like this, what it meant, how or if this would progress and what we would do about it. Sounds like every other doctor I speak too.

I'm so tired of giving the doctor my symptoms, having them pacify or play down what it could be, until it is that and then never acknowledging that the symptoms where there all along. I looked up heart not pumping blood which leads to congestive heart failure (CHF), which he mentioned casually, but I have no doubt he specifically did not use this term because of how scary it sounds.

Looking up CHF is awful, I have lots of the symptoms (mild as they are right now) and there is no treatment. The worst part is I’m not even done cancer treatment; I still have so many heart/ lung damaging drugs yet to take.

Cancer Addict

Walking into the hospital today I observed the construction sign for the addition as future site of the new Cancer Addiction Center. I thought who the hell gets addicted to cancer? And then started daydreaming about an AA style meeting, someone standing up and confessing that they started with a mild skin cancer but that wasn't enough so they got into lung cancer and then a little bit of myeloma.

They daydream became so absurd that I started to question what the Cancer Addiction Center might really be... only to reread that the sign was for the future home of the new Cancer Center Addition.

My brain is doing this all the time, making up words, switching numbers, letters and words. It's getting worse, but sometimes very funny.

Kickstart my Heart

The last hour of wearing my 48 hour heart holter monitor seemed like the longest hour of my life. Funny how the memory of pain and discomfort fades because I'm pretty sure having that giant needle stabbed into my heart last year was worse… but none the less, I couldn’t claw those sticky jumper cables off my chest fast enough. It felt like I had been wearing a tight corset for two days and I just needed to bust out (literally!)

I have continued to have a racing/ random jumpy heart since this whole thing started so I went back to my doctors for an x-ray and then another echocardiogram yesterday. My original echocardiogram showed that the current looping round one side of my heart was a bit “jiggly” as the report put it. Not that I knew until I went back complaining of it yet again.

The original follow-up I received from my hematologist was that my heart was fine. Lesson: Do not get your hematologist to interpret a cardiac report, get a cardiologist. So this time I have scheduled an apt with the cardiologist to discuss the follow-up report. Hopefully we will get to the bottom of this crazy heart thing.

It makes me feel very vulnerable to have my heart acting wonky all the time, more so than having cancer. I never feel like I could drop dead with cancer, but I sure feel that way about my heart. It mostly bothers me when I'm sleeping because it’s always racing, I never feel at rest. It reminds me of when I was a kid and we would be camping in some spooky woods and I couldn’t get to sleep because I was terrified by all the night noises and that there was some dude with an axe right out side the tent.
Ya like that, it feels like I'm scared all the time and my heart is racing except the only scary thing in my bedroom at night is likely me – bed-head, ugly pj’s, morning breathe = racing heart?

I also get what I can only describe as a surge or a whooshing feeling in my heart randomly. Anyone who has ever had a picc or port might understand this, it feels like when the nurse would flush your line with saline really fast and you could feel the whoosh of fluid into your heart. Except there’s no line now, so where is the feeling coming from?

I also have an overall heaviness in my heart that is hard to tell if it’s my heart or lungs. When I exercise I feel I reach an exertion limit where I know my heart and lungs just can’t do anymore no matter what. Sometimes if I talk too long or get laughing to hard I start to cough, and other times I just have a general ache and prickly stabs from the top of my heart (where the cancer is left) that bother me. But these seem mild now compared to the discomfort of the holter!

get some fu@kin help, you need it...........

Today was a two therapy session day. I met with the social worker in the morning and my therapist in the afternoon. By the end of the day I was thoroughly talked out and wrung out.
Talking to a professional is very purging, and since then have been feeling a bit more inspired. I'm telling ya, talking can be so healing. And not just to your friends, try someone bias that is paid to listen to your emotional vomit. Again totally purging!
I always thought finding the solution to a problem was the answer to the worry, so I spent allot of emotional effort seeking the answer. But I'm really seeing how the process of articulating the problem can be just as valuable as the solution in elevating the worry.

My current Theme Song:

I can't style my new hair... today I looked like Julie Andrews opening scene Sound of Music... "how do you solve a problem like a cowlick, how do you catch a curl and pin it down?" or "these are a few of my hairest things..." or how about "when your bangs bite, and the iron stings, when it's all a shag... I simply remember I was formerly bald... and then I don't feel so bad!"

what would Tamara do?

I'm lost and I'm not feeling very good about myself lately. I'm doing everything right, but it just feels all wrong. I get up, I go to work, I eat well, I exercise (not as much as I should – but that’s no the point… in-fact that’s pretty same old same old) and I socialize, I go to the movies, I make inappropriate jokes about what people are wearing and I flip off slow drivers… you know the same shit I always did.

I’m the same, but I'm not the same. There are so many little ways, mannerisms, thoughts and actions that I take that are perfectly normal for the situation but I'm surprised they came from me. I’ve changed, and of course things around me are always changing but my reliable reactions and responses have changed. I find myself thinking “what would Tamara do?” because it’s not second nature to just do it.
In this scene Tamara will be playing the role of Tamara, wow she is good… just like the real Tamara; you’d be hard pressed to tell them apart.

It’s hard to feel like you’re really living when your playing the role of who you used to be until you figure out who you are. This feeling of not really living, rather just existing is with me constantly and is perpetuated on so many levels. It starts with not having a plan. We don’t know if the cancer is gone, and if it is, we don’t know if it’s coming back so I'm just waiting.

How do you get up and get involved in any aspect of life when you never know when today’s plans will change or where tomorrows will take you? I don’t work like that; I need larger plans and goals, so I am really struggling on a fundamental level and existing CAT scan to CAT scan.

The funny thing is I didn’t really know that about myself until now. Well I did and I didn’t. I spent allot of mental energy laying out life plans, yearly goals and weekly tasks and beating myself up when I wasn’t focused enough to make get to those goals, plans and tasks. I always felt Id be living better if I did more of this and followed more of that, I had no idea how much I was “living” until I was just existing.

Now that I am physically able to get a life again I wonder what’s the point? To everyone else I look great and I'm doing good, but I don’t feel good; I'm lost. I need a plan; I need a plan… what would Tamara do?

Ridin the Dragon 6 months outta chemo!

What do you do when you find out you’re not going to do more chemo? You find another way to kill yourself…. It’s called dragon boating!

I let the news soak in for a day or two and then decided I better just throw myself back into life before I lost my nerve. First thing first was to start working again. I was a little nervous about jumping back into things and not really knowing what I was doing, but my motto has always been “fake it till ya know it” and that seems to be working well.

Second thing was to get my body back into shape and try to feel like I was being proactive about maintaining my health. So what do you do when you’re feeling weak, tired and outta shape, join a high performance activity – not!

Halfway through my first practice I was sitting in the back of the boat, in the middle of the river, wondering ‘what the fuck was I thinking?’ That’s pretty much how most of my practices went for the next six weeks. But every practice I got better. I got stronger and stronger, and by race day I was confident I would finish each race without throwing-up on myself. (What can I say we all have different objectives when competing?)

This was also another fake it till ya know it moment in that I didn’t tell anyone on my team that I have cancer. I really wanted see if I could pull off “normal” again, I certainly don’t feel it, but I’m fakin normal until I feel normal again!

Stay of Execution!

After all that I met with my hematologist to look at my latest CAT scan. First request, get my PICC line put back in ASAP and then discuss a treatment schedule so we could start coordinating my caretakers for the up and coming BMT this month.

Except the first thing he said was that “the CAT scan looked good, the mass has shrunk further and I think we’ll hold off on the BMT for awhile… I’d like to go with the wait and see approach” “See you in 3 months.” Whoa wha? It seems while I’ve been off planning for the worst my body has been givin em her best.

Funny my first response was not relief, it was annoyance and then guilt. But I’m ready! I’ve done allot of emotional prep-work over the last couple of months coming to terms with so much uncertainty and fear about what could happen during the BMT and then finally hit that “I’m ready, lets do this shit whatever happens happens” place… and nothings happenin! I should feel relief, but I feel emotionally jilted.

I feel guilty now too that things are going well. My parents just paid for a bunch of babies-on-ice, my Aunt just took me on a “one last hurrah” trip and my ‘everyone’ has been weighed down by my BMT news in Jan. I feel like I’ve cried wolf…. But it wasn’t me, it was the cancer! (sure, sure)

Whew… now that I’ve got the doubt outta me I think I can move into my happy place… at least for the next 3 months. I’m gonna make tacos and PinaColadas tonight, pretend like we’re celebrating my ovaries (what you don’t have family dinners like that?) and then casually tell them “I’ve refused to go into treatment this month!” and watch their faces drop… tee hee!

Being bad about good news is so much fun sometimes;)

Babies on Ice.

(Home from my Drug Run to Montreal)
In lue of further treatment (DHAP, BEAM & BMT) I decided to have some eggs frozen. After the first rounds of chemo my ovaries were not doing so well, “sluggish” was the word used. (Like they were hungover Given that the new chemo cocktails were going to be stronger this time I didn’t feel that the Lupron shot was going to be enough to save the ladies this time… time to find a new nest.

It was a rough process because you’ve gotta have eggs to freeze first. The average woman my age produces about 15-30 egg/follicles/ova/whatever a month but once they get to a certain size it triggers ovulation and then through ovulation only 1 (or 2) eggs survive to become dominant and ready for fertilization. I kicked up 2… just 2 and only from one ovary. .. the other bitch was still passed out.

There was some suggestion that they may recover as time went on, but I was running out of time. I managed to delay my BMT schedule until May, but that’s as long as I would go and needed to get some eggs out before then.

I contacted the McGill fertility clinic in Montreal because Ottawa doesn’t offer these services yet and started planning in Feb. Once we figured out my cycle for May I started hormone injections at home prior to collection to help induce more eggs, the more collected the better the results later. But I should mention in March I took it upon myself to start a supplement called Vitex that assists with fertility and saw my own egg count go up each month. Crackalackin!

Things progressed quickly and I only had to do injections for 9 days… only. These ones were twice a day and stung like hell. The collection was easy – 10 minutes! It’s all the prep that’s work, daily injections and driving to MT every other day for ultrasounds that’s not fun at 5am.

Collection day was a bit of an ordeal in that they couldn’t get an IV line into me. As usual my veins are toastitos and we can’t get fluid in or out of them without trying a few different spots each time. After 1 ½ hours, 9 painful tries and 2 faints (Mum fainted too) we got a so-so line in my hand for a 10 minute procedure. It worked just long enough for me to receive a local and then collapsed, and my hand bubbled with saline. My hands and arms have bruises and blood welts, I look like a junkie.

So that’s enough of that, Ill be asking the Dr. for my PICC line back in ASAP before any tests for the BMT start. (Who would have though “I” would be begging for it back!!!) I’ll meet with him tomorrow to look at my CAT scan and get this thing started. But first I need to go look up what these new chemicals are going to do to me, I feel like I’m ready for it now… got all my eggs in their basket.

Oh ya… 5 eggs in total! Humpty, Benedict, Sunny, Quicha & Huevos… the Spanish egg!

Cancer can be a real Drag!

I went to a Drag Queen fundraiser for the cancer society last night. That’s right, even Drag Queens get cancer!

At the end of the talent show the host, a cancer survivor, (also a Frenchmen and a Drag Queen) said his very dramatic thank you’s and shared his story. It was a very surreal moment. This emancipated man in a bad red wig with hideous make-up, red heels, camouflage pants and a t-shirt that said “I (heart) Solder Boyz” across his fake boobs was sashaying up and down the isle waving his hands and carrying on about the severity of cancer.
It reminded me a lot of the end scene in the Rocky Horror Picture Show where Dr. Frankenfurter sings “I’m going home” boa and all. And all I kept thinking was this guy/girl represents cancer!!!

Well yes he/she does! Cancer doesn’t care what colour your skin is, whether it’s God, Buddha or Vishnu, the size of your jeans, or who you fuck… no one is immune to cancer! The faster we all get that through our head (including me) the faster we’ll find a cure.

One Last Hurrah!

My Aunt sent me an email 2 weeks before Easter saying “let me take you away” and so off we went! Although that restless ‘I’ve got to get away’ feeling had died down from the ‘Id chew my own foot off its leash if I only had somewhere to go’ feeling I had in February; I still welcomed the escape.

Planning to fly standby we hoped we could make it to Spain so I spent a bit of time looking up things to do and see. Then very last minute we discovered that our options had narrowed to London or Puerto Rico… in April you go to PR, not rainy LDN.

At the airport we arrived last minute travelling carry on, breezed through security, got upgraded to executive class and once we were high in the sky I realized I didn’t know a thing about Puerto Rico except that most Puerto Ricans live in New York.

My Aunt had thought to bring a guide book which I quickly outlined way too many things for us to do within a couple of days, but we gave it our best shot. Every day was a busy day of walking, trekking and hiking around PR… which for me often turned into trudging. There were so many times when I should have stopped, slowed down and taken a break but I pushed on (usually up hill) and arrived everywhere a sweaty breathless mess; but I arrived.

I’ve just been so desperate to “do”. “Do” anything! I’m a “doer”, and I’ve been “doin” nothing for soooo long I really just wanted to be as active as possible, but my physical limits were apparent even as I trudged on past them. But I would do it all again and more as I had a great time and got to see (and “do”) so many things that will carry with me into the coming months of chemo boredom.

Choose Your Own Cancer Adventure

I have been thinking a lot about life and death lately… mine that is. I don’t have the same intuitive certainty that “I will make it through this” that I had when I was first diagnosed and facing 8 months of chemo. That’s not to say I feel that I will not make it through, I just simply don’t know this time the way knew last time. I have nothing deep down guiding me.

I do however feel that whatever happens is not entirely up to me anymore. Which is a hard thing to lump! I’ve never been a real “que sera sera” kinda gal; more like a make your own destiny, manage your own shit kinda chick. But if this all had been up to me I would have beat cancer after the first round, so perhaps it’s not all up to me?

So I’m prepping for both outcomes. Which is a really odd thing to be doing! It’s like I live in a choose your own adventure book where I’m starting out along one story and then with a flip of the page ill have to very different endings. Go to pg#46 for life or pg#89 for death. Except up until this point I was reading the book, now someone’s reading the book to me and choosing an ending. Surreal.

On the one hand I’m doing things to prepare my body for more chemo like exercising, eating well and taking a boatload of vitamins while making plans for the future during and after the chemo/BMT. At the same time I’m thinking a lot about what I want to happen if I die and what I can do now to make that better for my friends and family. And I’m not talking about writing out a Will or stupid shit like that, because I mean really ill be dead what do I care about ‘stuff’. I’m talking about what to say to whom and how with the assumption that it’s the last things that will ever be said between us.

I haven’t got very far because I fall apart when I try to think about it. Planning to live is easier than planning to die that’s for sure. But they feel equally as important right now, like no matter what; it’s something I have to do. It’s not that I’m afraid of death the way I think others are afraid of it, it’s more that I’m afraid of what happens to everyone else after I die. The things that bother me about my death are; I wish I could have done more, I’m afraid it will hurt, I’m afraid of the effect it will have on my family and I’m afraid it will happen too fast to say goodbye. Like death, they’re all things I can’t control.

So no matter what it’s I book I feel I have to write, so to speak, but I hope I’m not setting up the plot for a bad ending.

My New Theme Song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYIUYzbYeKA

Dude - Where's my Car?

I stepped outside and didn’t know where to go – I had no idea where my car was! No idea! I gave it a moments pause, like when you walk out of the mall and think “oh shoot where’d I put my car?” kinda pause; and nothing! Nothing! For 10 minutes I tried everything I could to trigger a memory of where I had parked the car just one hour ago. I walked up and down Elgin Street lost while other people hurried by drunk, laughing, and happily knowing where they were going. I was sober, I was not laughing, and I was miserable because I had no idea where I was going.

I remembered leaving the other bar and the three of us laughing and talking as I drove up to the next bar. I remembered us circling the block once and then nothing. I tried to think about how I parked the car, was it in a spot or on the side of the road? Which direction did we walk from? How long was the walk? Nothing! It’s the worst feeling; a chunk of your memory is gone, just gone. It was one o’clock in the morning and I was standing on the sidewalk not knowing what to do or where to go. Chemo Brain!

I decided to try walking up and down some of the closets roads, because I had a sense that we didn’t park far away, but I didn’t know if we were north, south, east, west – nothing! I thought maybe a landmark might jog my memory, or I tried to recall what we were talking about in the car – anything to bring the experience back, but it was gone! GONE!

In the end it was my car flashy thing that found my car when I saw the lights, not me. I was not able to draw upon one single flash or speck of memory about parking the car that assisted me in finding the car. Thank god I have a new car with a keyless lock flashy thing. Thank god the weather has warmed.

At first when I approached the car I had no memory of how it got there, almost the same feeling as if someone else had put it there and I was surprised and trying to make sense of it. And then a small detail emerged, I remembered waiting for someone else to pull out so I could have the spot, and then today more details. But nothing at the time.

This is scaring the pants off me! This is the second big “memory chunk lost” incident this month, with many little ones daily. What the hell am I going to do with this “fabulous” opportunity at life after cancer when yet another aspect of the quality of that life is being taken from me. How am I going to do my job well? The only advantage I have over another is being sharp, organized and a mind for remembering details. What am I going to do if I can’t even remember the basics let alone the details?

Live Your Truth, the State I’m In & Good Things:

I realize my blogs are a lot of bitch right now, but I firmly believe you gotta live your truth. And my written truth is always the state I’m in! I’ve noticed there are a lot of bloggers who only write when they have something good or uplifting to share about cancer and their experiences. Ill notice a gap in their writing and then a comeback note that says “sorry I didn’t write for so long, I was feeling really down”; I think this is a real injustice to others.

It’s clear that many have a shared experience of feeling down, angry or lost for a period of time during this process, but many are reluctant to share it. I don’t need a dirty laundry list, but if there’s someone else out there who’s going through this process who wants to share – share! Share the good and the bad, that’s the biggest service you can do for another “patient”. No one wants to be alone in this experience, especially in there problems.

However in the last few months I have neglected to post my “good things”…so…

The one thing (or being) that always makes me happy is my cat. This little old man is especially happy to have me back in my parent’s home at his beck and call. He loves the day after chemo because he gets to stay in bed all day and cuddle, and I love the company! At 15 he is starting to experience some health problems so I’m just so happy to be near him during this time. Pets are such a comfort and a wealth of unconditional love… a sick person must have!

Over the past month I have taken over the household cooking and am learning to prepare all these meals from my clean eating and cancer-free cookbooks. I used to own take-out menus, not cookbooks! Early on I learned that a clove of garlic was one of the pieces inside the bulb, not the bulb. In the end the stew with several bulbs of garlic in it (instead of cloves) tasted pretty good, but our house stunk, our clothes stunk, my car stunk, my mittens stunk, and the cat stunk like garlic for 2 weeks! Nobody liked the almond cookies (aka. dog biscuits) I made, but man am I having fun… I learned how to use a Cuisinart!

So throughout this experience I have not found god, it hasn’t brought me closer to my family (thus far), I haven’t bought into the “everything happens for a reason” inner peace shit and I have chronic moments of ungratefulness, wounded vanity and all out bitching. When I’m done with that I pet the cat, try to kill my family with my cooking and blog about the state I’m in!

Cancer Cash

Applying for financial assistance is an emotional rollercoaster that one does not really need to be riding during a period of illness or treatment. I just finished with the liaison for OntarioWorks who helps people apply for ODSP, what a great lady! She came out to my house, went over my application and double checked that I was aware of (and accessing) all the resources available to me. At times like this I am pleased with the benefits and assistance available to Canadian’s and breathe a sigh of relief that things are going to be okay.

Two hours ago I was reading an article about a young woman in Windsor who was not eligible for EI or welfare when she became sick with ovarian cancer at 26. She had not put enough time into the workforce for EI, and her family (not her) had money in retirement funds, so “they” were not poor enough to be eligible for welfare. Read: http://www.thestar.com/comment/columnists/article/569272

I know all about this trap of having to moving home because you can’t get enough money from the Govt to support your household bills, yet once you move home not qualifying for enough funds to pay the remaining bills you have because of the household (or family) income they assume you have access too. My family can give me a roof, food and love… that’s it, that’s all.

Between this article and a blog I was reading last night about a 21 year old also not old enough to have contributed into these resources, I’m thanking good this didn’t happen to me at a younger age. I have enough problems trying to get ODSP. And then I get angry all over again. I have applied for so many programs, been rejected, been approved, been given misinformation, been given no information and in general done a lot of leg work for a chicky who’s supposed to be sick.

In the beginning I applied for EI and was told I couldn’t apply for CCP until EI was done and that I had too much savings to apply for ODSP. So I lived off of about ½ of what I needed from the Govt and subsidized the rest from my savings. EI ran out after 15 weeks, I called up and they said I should have applied for CPP in the beginning because it takes 2-3 months to be approved; I could have had both all along! So then I got CPP after EI (again about ½ of what I needed) until the end of my treatment/ now.

Now I have just found out this process will go on longer with more treatment, and I am out of savings – so CPP is not going to be enough anymore. I started the application for ODSP only to be told I could have applied for it when I had savings. Why did I have to deplete my own resources to the point of being at the Govt mercy to get help? If I had been getting what I was entitled to all along I would have been able to use my own funds towards little things I think are important to improve the basic living expenses they provide. Ie. They provide a Kraft dinner diet expense, I top it up to eat organic food and buy supplements. Now Ill have nothing to top up their allotments to cater to my specific needs.

So although I really liked this lady and felt she was helpful, well I felt that way about the people that gave me the mis-info before. You can only hope and trust the person you are assigned to is giving you the right info at the right time, and volunteering things you might not know to ask.

By the way, you hospital social worker won’t offer this up in the beginning (again waiting until your in dire straights and come calling) you don’t need to be paying parking fee’s, they have funds for that. Information I could have used 9 months and $500 in parking receipts ago!

Loose Ends

I was reading back over some of my posts and thought I should provide some updates and wrap up loose ends.

Breathing problems: My last chemo was mid-Dec with the effects of that round felt between Christmas and New Years. This was the worst breathing spell yet, but I stayed calm and mostly immobile for about a week and when the cycle of drugs started to wear off, my breathing improved. Between my ER visit and now I have had numerous lung/breathing tests, scans and appointments regarding the matter. For awhile the Dr’s thought I had systematic fibrosis on my lungs (permanent scaring) from the bleomycin, but thankfully it seems to be temporary (yet sever) swelling from prolonged use of the chemical. I am breathing normally now, but I still notice a… limited air intake (hard to explain) when I workout.

Doc visits: Too many! Mid-January I had my follow-up CT/PET scan, then follow-up consult with my Hematologist and numerous lung and heart dudes.

Test results: My CT shows the mass has stayed shrunken but not gone. Sometimes these masses never go away completely and scar tissue is left, however my PET showed the mass was still active. The Dr. is not keen on radiation due to my lung/heart sensitivity, so in a few months we will look at BMT treatment

Eating and digestion: Much better and fat, fat, fat! I didn’t have too many hang-ups about food during chemo, I was on the “if you make it, Ill eat it diet!” My yoyo bowel problems are gone, thank god Ill never take my ass for granted again! Except now that it’s working again, it wants more real-estate – my ass is huge! I am so hungry all the time, and desperate for sugar. Is it an unbalance, or boredom?

Medications: None baby, none!!! I haven’t stepped into my pharmacy since Dec, and I will suffer a headache all night before I take one single Tylenol. I just need some drug-free time before it all starts again.

Energy: Unbelievable! There comes a point throughout treatment where you’ve been decrepit for so long, and deteriorate more with each treatment that you almost forget what daily energy is because the slowdown was gradual. My breathing and energy improved daily once the effects of the last round wore off. It was amazing, last Nov I couldn’t carry my own laundry to the basement and by Dec I could barely get down the stairs to the kitchen. Mid-January I was up to low key activities for about half a day, and now I could probably work about a 6hour day. My free laundry service has ended!

Ailments: My arms still ache from the damage to my veins but that’s about it. Dry mouth and dry eyes that caused blurred vision is gone. My crazy heart rhythms have returned to normal and lungs are doing what they’re supposed to. My nose still runs constantly; when will that end?

Looks: My hair is still growing, but slower than before. My skin is still dry and rough. Towards the end of treatment my body felt like sandpaper. I’m still scrubbing away and saturating myself in Shea butter but it’s not quite back to normal.

Vacation: I was too sick and tired to go away for Christmas. We finally went last week to Barbados. I think that was best that we waited a few weeks because I was in much better shape to tour and do activities.

Future: Unknown, uncertain! I really just don’t know what to do with myself right now. Physically I am feeling better and the Dr. suggested I could return to work until my next treatment, but I don’t really have a job I can walk in and out of. It would be bad for clients and coworkers to have to leave again in two months. So I’m trying to decide what to do?

Money: Almost outta coin! CPP pays very little and starts after EI times out. I don’t qualify for any EI top-ups and likely not EI disability. For the last 9 months I have been paying bills from my savings, as CPP only provides about half of what I need to meet my financial obligations. The savings run out in February, so go back to work right? If I work just a little (p/t), it’s subtracted dollar for dollar from my benefits – no gain. If I work a lot (f/t) I lose my benefits and then have to start the application process all over again when I start up treatment again. I’m trapped… fuck I was supposed to be cancer free by now – I budgeted to be cancer free by now! There is no more money to entertain this cancer nonsense any longer!

Cancer Mania

I started to disconnect towards the end of my post treatment consultation with the doctor. I tried to stay engaged and present so I could remember my questions, but it didn’t really matter I wasn’t listening to the answers anymore. I shut down after “3 more months” and “blood transfusion”. I can’t help it; it’s just the way I am. If the reaction coming forth is too much, I shut it down… I’m a zombie at weddings and funerals; the emotional weight overwhelms me into a quite delirium.

I floated out of the hospital and replaced my quite delirium with quite mania. It’s a crazy I’ve just checked out kind of feeling where everything spins around me and I’m sure I get this “I’ve snapped” gleam in my eyes circa Chevy Chase, Christmas Vacation. It’s not a rage, just a deep revolution inside that it’s not alright, none of this is alright… and I’m gonna damn well make it right! You’re only aware of it when you see your nails have left marks in your clenched fists, your jaw starts to ache from being set or you throw eggs at some bitch’s car who wronged you… that’s another story. Needless to say it’s a real fixated mental divide; sshhh Tammy’s gone to her postal place.

In the car I white knuckled the steering wheel trying to figure out what was next and was lulled further into my mania by the introspective intro to “Won’t get fooled again” by The Who. Synthesizer’s rock! When experiencing a revolution you need reflective revolutionary music, thank you radio gods! As I listened I raged at the reality that cancer can kill me and I raged at my foolishness, and arrogance in thinking that it wouldn’t. I was so sure that eight months of chemotherapy would be enough and by February I would be smug with my answers “yes, that’s right I did beat a life threatening illness last year” “I know, I know I do look great considering”. So foolish, I had underestimated cancer, but perhaps still not over estimated myself. I resolved when it comes to cancer, I won’t get fooled again!

Then the music shifted my emotions with the first chorus of “A day in the life” by The Beatles… “I read the news today, oh boy”. It’s always been one of my favorite songs. There’s a quite sadness in the beginning that makes you feel a little lost and helpless about all the things that happen in life. And then just as you’re about to sink into your own self pity the orchestra spirals out of control and drags you into what you must do… “woke up, got outta bed and dragged a comb across my head”. The music comes back around and you realize that this is just the cycle of life; good and bad life just goes on. I resolved that this is just the way it is, crazy or not, and the finality of that thought was solidified with a final boom on the piano keys.

The final song to end my music therapy starts with a ticking countdown that pumped me up into the final stage of my manic epiphany, ahhh the power of Loverboy! While I worked out all the things I’m going to do to beat cancer, I sang at the top of my lungs. It was a real lunatic moment reflected in the eyes of the dude next to me at the stop light… my ear flap ski hat really completed the crazy picture. “I’ve had all I can take, I can’t take it no more, I’m gonna pack my bags and ffffllllllllyyyyy…. my way, or no way at all!” If you scream that part, you still wont sound as good as Loverboy, but you will resolve that from now on this cancer thing is gonna happen, my way… or no way at all!

PET scans... good times, good times...

I did not know how long it would take to get a CT/PET scan until I arrived for the appointment early in the morning. I’m a “must eat as soon as I roll outta bed” kinda person, and having gotten up at 7am without breakfast or coffee (have to fast for scan) and drove 2 hours (again with out coffee) to be told at 10am that the scan process will take 3 hours (without coffee)… well she’s lucky I didn’t eat my Wheaties after all!

The scan it’s self is only about an hour, but you have to have a die injected beforehand and then percolate for an hour. Ahh injections here we go again! You know the story, my veins are toast and it’s very hard to get a line in or out. After the usual 3 tries in different locations the tech got into my hand, the problem with that was I started to faint after the 2nd try and more people had to be called in to deal with me and my shenanigans while the first guy kept poking around.

It’s really so maddening! I am not afraid of needles or blood and I am indifferent to these pains, but the moment it looks like the process is not working (usually the 2nd,3rd or 4th poke) I start to faint. My nurses, mother and therapist all say it’s a stress response but I don’t feel stressed, just embarrassed that I can’t control myself. (The lack of food probably didn’t help.)

Oh it just flabbergasts me! I am not a lily of girl, I can do 16 rounds of chemo, watch the doctor jab a 6” needle in my heart to drain it… hell I once took a punch in the jaw in grade 9 from a girl built like a quarter back; I was famous that week! (I didn’t dare hit her back, but I didn’t fall down either; and I kept her boyfriend… I digress…) I am a tough bitch… who faints allot! (As soon as I wake up there’ll be hell to pay!)

Anyways the scan was uneventful; the results are in a few days.
Tamara -1 vs. Cancer -0

This year I think Ill grow my own white blood cells!

I had one last shot of Neupogen tonight to kick start my white blood cells; the rest is up to me now. That’s a total of 50 home injections over the past 8 months, no more dartboard belly! That's a great start to my year!