Chew On It

Today is the first Monday that I didn't have to go in for treatment. Oh, what a relief it is...

Side effects had started to really linger, initially lasting two or three days but then running out to 10 or more. So essentially, I would start to feel better by say Friday, and Monday I would start all over. That meant a lot of weekends I was quietly bracing myself, relaxing, napping, trying to conserve energy for the rollercoaster on Monday.

Not this weekend, though. This weekend I cooked, and it was more than scrambled eggs and toast. I took Donovan to the Fall festival at the Historic Park - hay rides, caramel apples, honey sticks, cowboys and indians. We went to the playground and out for happy hour. We drove around in the parking garage at the mall for 15 minutes after grocery shopping because Donovan thinks it is a tunnel. I went running. Twice. It wasn't great, but I managed to piece together a few miles each day. I ran to Bon Jovi, which reminds me of being young and carefree, when my biggest worry was getting my hair big enough. My thighs hurt today, and it feels good. It was a meaty weekend.

Throughout the last week, I've read or heard some inspiring notes that hit home. Messages I'll call up when I'm being rolled into that big scanner Thursday, or when my chest aches and I'm out of breath, thinking about slowing to a walk before that next light pole. I thought they were worth passing along.

• 'If we don't have some perils, fears, ups and downs, don't take some risks, don't have some set-backs, how do we recognize just how much we have?' ~ Roxann Johnson


• 'Life is good and we should live passionately!' ~ Tasha Fontanes
  
• 'Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm. Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means you 've decided to look beyond the imperfections.' ~ James Covino


• 'Back to full strength 100 yards at a time...' ~ Kevin Cuddie


• 'That was a fun hay hay, we should do it again tomorrow, Mommy.' ~ Donovan

Next Steps

Though I'm still basking in having finished four months of chemo, there's still much to be done. Here's an outline of next steps;

• 10/5 - Consult with the surgeon in preparation for the ileostomy reversal, commonly called the 'takedown'.
• 10/7 - Testing of anastomosis. This basically verifies that I don't have any colon blockages or leaks as a result of the first surgery, which would impede the takedown. Once again, I'll be bare-assed on a table with a bunch of strangers. This from the chick who changes in a bathroom stall in the gym locker room and never peed in front of even her best girlfriends.
• 10/12 - PET/CT scan. Technically, they'll give me an IV of a tracer, a slightly radioactive glucose, wait an hour and then scan me. Any area of the body with abnormally high metabolic activity (cancer) would have a higher glucose intake, so the tracer will be highly attracted to those areas and would show up on that scan. But I know this house is clean!
• 10/14 - Review results of the scan with my oncologist.
• 10/14 (Evening) - Substantial intake of really good champagne.
• 10/25 - Takedown surgery, which will keep me in the hospital about three days and home on leave about four weeks. Even after less than six months with the ostomy, this will be a slow recovery as my colon remembers how it is supposed to work...I'm told it will likely be a year before I really feel 'normal'. Still, Mommy's 'boo-boo' will be no more.
• TBD - Port removal.
• February, 2011 to October, 2015 - For the first three years, I've have an annual CT scan, with blood work every three months. Years four and five I'll have blood work every six months, with an annual scan. And for the rest of my life I can look forward to colonoscopies every two years...

Despite the fact that there's some really rough stuff in the plan, I'm OK with it all. Everything up to this point was about killing the cancer inside me - everything from this point forward is intended to make me whole, help me recover and move on, and get back to just being me.

Finito!

I've been remiss in updating here, as Kane reminds me with relative frequency, and I do feel guilty about that. But, the time has not been wasted, rather filled with sweet events, so I can't be hard on myself. I could swear I posted something about lucky treatment number 7, which I did construct in my head, but apparently never put it to keyboard...

Treatments five and six were rough. My kick-over-the-speakers attitude was beginning to wan a bit. Sandwiched between six and seven however, Stephen and Katie came to visit. Getting to know Katie, who I gather is going to be around awhile, and seeing my brother in love, was a great distraction. The seventh treatment the following week was easier than five and six, I think because there was finally an end in sight. And with Mom in town that following weekend, recovery was easier on us all - there was a third person in the rotation for hide-and-seek, tricycle training and bath-time!

After that following week off treatment, we had a three day weekend in Napa for Jen and Mike's wedding. A day of touring wineries with friends via limo, a day off with Steve touring by bicycle, some really fabulous food, a candlelit wedding under the stars, lots of laughs and moments with great friends, the comfort of knowing Donovan was home with Yenny riding the train and eating ice cream each evening...I came back on a high and that carried right into the eighth and final post surgical treatment, which started our first day back.

Although it has been the hardest physically, it was the easiest mentally. Throughout those three days last week, no matter the nausea and that chemical taste, no matter how bad the burning in my hands and mouth, no matter a few more eyelashes - I truly believe I will never have to do this again and that made it easier to power through. And then there I was, after three and a half months of treatment, being unplugged Wednesday afternoon...rounds of hugs from all the nurses, cheers from the receptionists on my way out the door, a flood of relief and tears in the car home. It was actually hard to put into words how good it felt to be done. And then, on Thursday evening, my niece, Kasey Gabrielle Metz was born and Keith was quickly able to put it into words...she and I now share the first day of the rest of our lives.

We're Going Bananas

Monday was the start of treatment number six, though it almost didn't happen. I've hit that point where my counts have kind of bottomed out, particularly my white blood cells, platelets and potassium. Platelets and white blood cells I get. Not being able to fight off infection is an obvious danger and something I think about each day as I see the list of confirmed illness on the board at Van's school...pink eye, croup, fifth's disease.

But potassium? Is that really critical, I asked? Silly me...your muscles need potassium to contract, your heart to regulate blood pressure and the rest of your body to maintain cellular processes. Low potassium, or Hypokalemia (check out the big brain on Brad...), makes you weak. I'm sure this is contributing to my staggering out of bed each morning completely zapped of energy after a solid 10 hours of ambien induced sleep, as if I've slept all night with a lump of kryptonite under my pillow.

So, after I promised to stock up on potassium rich foods and shun all sick people, the doc agreed to treatment. Van and I are now locked in competition to see who can eat the most bananas and canteloupe, although he still gets the highly valued 'sticker banana'. After he proudly peals that sticker off and hands it to me I wait until he isn't looking and then stick it back on another banana in the bunch, so we never run out.

No Whining Please!

Last week was an 'on' week, chemo Mon-Wed. My doctor had told me that it would start to run downhill at the fourth treatment, but then the fourth went so well I almost didn't believe him. Still, the evening before the fifth I felt a sense of dread and self pity, something I can honestly say I've been able to easily side step up until then. I just want to be done and get back to life as we know it. And on top of that, I had tried to go for a run, but four months of doing little more than walking to the park made for a demoralizing experience. My legs were tight, I was out of breath, and I had to link spurts of walking and running just to get to the the 2 mile mark! Throughout Sunday evening, I was feeling sorry for myself and my inside voice was emitting a high and constant whine. Even online shopping and some smokin' deals on last year's ski wear wasn't enough to pull me out of my funk.


So, needless to the say, the fifth treatment arrived anyway, and it was, as the doctor predicted, worse. The side effects I do have like nausea and nueropathy are a little more extreme and lasting a little longer with each treatment. Plus, a few new side effects have started to pop up. I've noticed a little more hair on the bathroom floor when I'm done with the blowdryer, but luckily given the amount of hair I have, even my hairdresser of eight years can't tell the difference. I do however, seem to be missing most of my lower lid eyelashes suddenly. And I've started to get bloody noses, as the chemo can effect the membranes throughout your body. Super.

So all of last week I felt pretty crummy. And then Steve went off to the mountains for three days of golf, mountain biking and bbq, for Mike's bachelor party. Though I insisted he go, as again this takes nothing from us unless I let it, I knew being a single parent was going to be exhausting!


Despite the pity-party-for-one earlier in the week, as the weekend arrived I started to gain back some perspective, helped in large part by a casual girls night on the back patio with plenty of wine. I only have three treatments and five weeks left, with a long weekend in Napa sandwiched in on a good week to look forward to. And for all the poison being poured into it, my body is still hanging tough! Even as side effects worsen I know that I've metabolized the drugs much better than most, and as a result, I've experienced fewer and less severe side effects than most. I need to be proud of and kind to my body, despite it's wobbly bits and missing eyelashes, as this vessel is carrying me through rougher waters than anyone could have predicted, and we haven't been swamped yet!

NY State of Mind

When I moved to Colorado (has it really been 13 years!?) I vowed that I would never skip an important family celebration because of geography. Add to that my commitment to not just surviving cancer but conquering cancer - the difference, I believe, being that I will not let this take anything more away from me than is absolutely necessary. So, I may not miss that six inches of colon, but I absolutely would not miss my brother's 30th birthday weekend.

It was a very quick trip, a total of about 72 hours on the Island, but just what we needed.

A little family time at Jones Beach Friday. Hot dogs, cold beer, feet in the sand, waves rolling in, watching Van and Keira try to figure out this new substance under foot. And if it wasn't already perfect enough, after the playground and ice cream at Friendlies, there was a Motley Crue cover band at the little ampitheatre along the boardwalk. I'm on my way, I'm on my waaaa-aaay, home sweet home...

Saturday was Stephen's big day. A bus full of family and pals spent the day touring vineyards and a vodka distillery, sharing our favorite Stephen tales along the way. From what I can remember, we were all good and boozy by the time the bus dropped off us at the 'rents place. Now, at 30, Stephen's friends are only really just getting into the married with kids phase, and so across the group they seem to be doing a pretty impressive job of keeping the early 20s lifestyle going. As would be expected of any good Metz bash back in the day, there was a lot of tossing of bodies into the pool, Matty spent most of the late night naked, and there was the requisite beer chugging contest - the winner of which was, in a former life, the 1998 Ward Melville chugging champ, but is now by day a respectable high school math teacher. At 4 am, I could still hear the last of the bunch giggling out on the deck. I wondered how they have the energy and when Steve and I grew so old, but at 2 pm the next day, when several of them were still asleep upstairs, I was reminded that they have no children...

Sunday, the entire DeKoskie clan made the long trek down from K-town, along with more local family and friends. Pool time for the kids, bbq, good conversation and lots of hugs and photo ops. Is it me or was Donovan the only child that spent most of the day clad in a diaper or altogether naked?

By Sunday night I was torched, but it was the kind of complete, deep and happy exhaustion one gets after a vacation full of laughs and love. Thanks to all who planned, traveled, cooked and otherwise contributed to make the weekend as spectacular as it was.

Girls Gone Wild

This past weekend was yet another celebratory event in the YOJ (Year of Jen), as she prepares for her upcoming nuptials in September. An entourage of nine bright and beautiful women headed up to Beaver Creek for a lovely mountain getaway - an afternoon at the spa, dinner and dancing in one of Vail's finer (or only) clubs, and for the first time in awhile for me at least, lots upon lots of champagne.

So, just a few observations from the weekend...

• Given the attention from an entire soccer team and a large bachelor party (most of whom started out conversations with something like 'We're married with kids and not trying to pick you up, but you all seem like fun...), despite being in our mid 30s and almost all having children (some as recently as June), we are still cute, ladies. And it is validation that my personal approach is working, that being that as long as you can possibly avoid it you should never look like you have cancer.
  
• Occasionally pulling the cancer card is OK - like when it gets you the hot stones add-on for free during your massage.
  
• Has anyone tried a Cherry Bomb? A shot of cherry vodka mixed with red bull...not only surprisingly tasty, but very helpful in avoiding a nap in the corner when you're going to be up until 3 am.
  
• Cocktail, cocktail, water, cocktail, water, cocktail, water...
  
• Jeni C., I love when you let your freak flag fly - and I'm pretty sure that was NOT the first time you worked a whip.
  
• I've been so lucky that the timing of this and other events has been just right, usually falling during an off-chemo week, allowing me to do more than just participate, but to really engage and enjoy my time with family and friends - and that is what feeds the unconquerable soul and keeps me motivated through each treatment.
  
• I reject the term 'victim' with my whole heart and mind.
  
• Though Steve is absolutely willing to let Van be the dirty kid and feed on nothing but cheese and chips, Van himself is thankfully getting smart enough to tell Dad when he needs a shower or a banana.
  
• Time away is wonderful, but so is coming home to shouts of 'It's my Mommy, my Mommy's home!'