Dr. Coolio

I'm finally up and running in Dallas with a new oncologist.  It's comforting that she already knows me through my story, having discussed my case with Dr. Fleener.  It's nice to have another young, female oncologist who studied with Dr Fleener, and seems ready to take on my craziness.

It's been a rough few weeks in our lives.
Stephen finally moved here and started his new job.
Our house finally went under contract.
We moved our stuff out of the house and into two storage units in Frisco.
The buyer decided she didn't like our house without our stuff in it.  (She went in the day BEFORE our scheduled deep clean and saw the mess left under furniture in a house for four years.)
She backed out of the contract, but had only put in $100, so we *really* lucked out.
We discovered a leak in the roof, water all on the sheet rock in the garage.
Stephen went to check on the place and found our dining room chandelier destroyed, after having fallen from the ceiling and smashed on the ground.
Insurance couldn't get their act together, and I had to postpone my treatment.
It's been raining nearly everyday for three weeks!

As you can see, we've had quite a few bumps in the road in the last few months.

That's behind us, for now, as I embark on this new journey with a new doctor.

Meeting Dr. Cole was a great first impression, one of a caring and kind and interested physician.  She asked about my eye and hands, posing a question I haven't heard before: "Is Brachydactyly connected to breast cancer?"

I'm excited about getting going on treatment.

I'm not too excited about having to do a bunch of baseline scans, especially since we tried to do them in the summer, so I wouldn't have to pay for more until the new year.  Also, I am not excited AT ALL about driving downtown for the MRI, MUGA, and bone scan.  I'm having MAJOR anxiety about driving there, so I might UBER my way.  We will see.....

As Dr. Cole was ending our meeting, she summarized her plan, where I go from here, explained all the baseline tests she wanted, and ordered labs to be done right in the office that day.

"Coolio?"

I've been thinking about what the next phase of my blog posts would be titled.  She gave herself her own nickname!





Kicking cancer to a new curb!!!

H&P #44 + Last One At Cancer Clinic

Seventeen years ago, we owned an old hand-me-down tube television.  The tricky thing about this tv was that it took a variable amount of time to warm up and be prepared to change channels.  In the meantime, this crazy freebie only showed PBS in Español.  (That's Spanish for Spanish.)  I often turned on the junker while I was in the shower, so it might have sufficient prep time to give me the Today show while I got ready to leave to morning classes.  Sometimes this plan worked; other times I was tutored with a morning review from Plaza Sesemo y mas adelante, Mimi y Señor Bobo.   As poor, young, married college students, we made this dual-language television set work, as it was the best we could afford.

Seventeen years ago, Plaza Sesemo had just clicked over to English channels, as I watched the live footage of an airplane fly into the second World Trade Tower.  I stood in my bedroom, in awe, to learn that what I thought must be a horrible accident was actually the second plane to crash into the buildings that morning.  The shock of it all was more than I could even comprehend.  (Not to mention that, of course, my courses were still being held, and absences would be counted against my grade.)

This was before the time when most humans carry high-powered, tiny computers in our hands, capable of so much more than a lesson from Señor Bobo.  I had to leave the news from all channels and go to class for hours, not knowing any further information.  How nearly impossible it was to concentrate on lessons.  Questions filled my thoughts:
Who has done this?
How were they able to do this?
What does this mean?
Is this war?


Never did I ever think the disaster would reach the level of destruction and loss of life it did.  My first class went on as normal, but the news hit campus and the rest of my classes were canceled for the day.  When I FINALLY walked in the door a few hours later, I caught a glimpse of the second tower falling.  I stood, watching the [good] tv in total disbelief.  I was in shock.  I'm probably naive, but I just never imagined that there would be a collapse.  I couldn't comprehend that level of destruction and hate for America or our way of life or terrorists' ideas of our lives.  My heart broke for all the families and our country.  I couldn't imagine a portion of all the ways that all of our lives would change.

Today I sit in a chair I've filled for at least 50 times.  I think back to all the ways our country has changed in the last seventeen years.  I also ponder all of the ways my life has changed in the last 5 years, since cancer has threatened to collapse me and the hope for my future.  My heart still aches for all the destruction of 9/11.  However, I'm hopeful that there is still good in humanity.  I hate that it takes a terrible attack to bring it out the good, but I pray that we can honor the memory of the innocent people who had their lives stolen that day and all those who were affected by loving and serving those around us.

There is hate and war and terror in the world.  There is also love and hope and faith.  A lot more can be done with the latter.  The anniversary of this terrible tragedy renew in me a desire to make the world a better place.

Hope, faith, and love can heal this world from the path of hate it seems to be following.  I continue to use those powerful tools in my fight against cancer, and I truly believe that they are what has helped me stay healthy.
 

That, and amazing shoes.  And, flu shots.

H&P #43 + Appointment with Fleener + Zometa

It's really coming down to the end of my time a the Cancer Clinic in College Station.  I can't just "leave it to Fleener" anymore.  I have to find another's hands in which to place my care.  Sure, my oncology family here will always be here for me, but it's just not feasible for me to make the 3+ hour trek every 3 weeks for the rest of time.

This process of moving and thinking about leaving these amazing people behind, while trying to help my children transition into their new school/sports homes has been stressful.  Our house hasn't sold.  Stephen's working here while we are there until October.  I have to coordinate plans for moving and storing our belongings until our house sells and we can actually think about buying another home.  I haven't been sleeping well, and I'm sure its related to all of these and many more stresses involved with changes and moving and getting organized and settled in a completely new place.

I've been feeling great, other than in not sleeping, so there is much for which to be grateful, in that area. Tomorrow, I will have a CT and and MRI, so my information will be up-to-date, as I find new doctors up in the Dallas area.

I continue to look for blessings and at all the things for which I can give gratitude.  One simple one...Stephen dropped his wallet in the parking lot of Lowe's last week.  He didn't realize until he was checking out, and it wasn't in his pocket.  He thought he left it at home, but found that someone had turned it in, without even taking the $20 bill inside.  This seems like such a small thing, but for anyone who has ever had their identity stolen or truly lost all of that information, it is such a pain to cancel old credit cards and a order new driver's license and all the other tedious to-dos which result from that annoyance.

I'm thankful my boys have a good school to attend up in Frisco.  It was a hard choice to miss out on Camp Kesem because of their earlier school start, but I'm glad I got them registered and started at the beginning instead.

I'm grateful for family--especially right now to Stephen's brother and his family for allowing us to live with them while we figure out our whole moving situation.

I'm grateful for all the friends, neighbors, and other warriors that have continued to love and support me and my family through our journey over the last five years.  We have survived up to this point because of the service you have given our family.  We have felt your prayers buoy us up.

I'm sad that our moving plans have messed up other plans that have been set long before Stephen got a new job, which necessitated all of this moving business in the first place.  I was heart broken to not fly to visit my new niece in Utah last week because I needed to help the boys with their first week of school at a new school, but I am grateful that I will get to meet her soon.



I feel a connection with this new niece on many levels.  First, she's the firstborn of my baby sister, the one to which our mother calls my twin.  I cried tears of joy when this sister first told me she was pregnant.    She and her husband, like me and mine, had experienced many years of the pains and sadness of infertility.   And, finally, there was a pregnancy that could FINALLY become a person.  It was a time worthy of a river of happy, thankful tears.

For anyone in similar circumstances, having been poked and prodded and tested and medicated and FINALLY having a viable pregnancy, you know the conundrum.  There's extreme excitement and gratitude, but there's also potential worry and concern if it will REALLY happen this time.  The inner monologue,
"Should I allow myself to get excited?"
"Should we share our news, just in case?"
"How do I know this one is different?"

Plus, with this type of pregnancy, you usually know VERY early in the process, making that 9-10 months a VERY LONG 9-10 months.

I felt so special to be on the VERY short list of people who had even been told about this pregnancy so early-on, partly because of my similar experiences/partly because it was my baby/twin sister, and mostly.....let's be honest......because I needed to get started on planning the baby shower which would live up to my sisters' incredibleness!

We both felt pretty strongly that this baby was going to be a boy, but we were surprised to discover there was pink for their future.  A baby GIRL!!!

Then came the name search.

***************

A little background.....
My name is spelled in an unusual way (MELODEE.)  It's the EE that has special meaning in our family.  My mom's nickname growing up was DEE; she also had a friend named Melodee, whose name was an inspiration for mine.  My baby sister's name also ends with an EE, so naturally, she was looking to name her baby girl with a name that also ended in EE.  When her favorite name was taken by a relative, only months before the birth, the name search was on again.  She was disappointed at first, and many of the names I suggested never quite matched up to the original idea.

**************

Then, one day my sister called me.  She began telling me a story about a dream she had where she already had a baby girl who was already named in the dream.  When she and her husband had dinner the next evening, talked all about a dream HE had had about their daughter and her name.  Incredibly, their dreams contained THE SAME BABY NAME!

So, my sister continued,

"I need to ask you a question:  

Would you mind if we named our baby after you?  

We are thinking of naming our daughter Melodee Ann.  

It fits the EE thing.  It's got family name status."  

For the second time in only a few months, my baby sister had me crying like a baby on the phone.   She described how much she loved and admired me and felt like I was one of the strongest women she's ever known and how she wanted her daughter to know the same strength in life.  She couldn't think of a more special name for her baby girl.

Of course, I didn't mind.  I couldn't stop crying, but I definitely didn't mind.  It was an incredibly humbling honor, one of the times in life where I have felt most special and important.

I also felt a little anxious.  It is a big responsibility, to be a namesake.  Would I really live up to such an honor?  Had I truly lived a life to deserve that?  Would it just be a name?

(What follows are thoughts I haven't truly shared until now....)

I pondered on this honor for the months which followed.  I was so excited, but I was also scared.  Would my name be a curse on this baby?  Would she fall into so many life trials and hardships, like I have?  And, even worse thoughts, would having a namesake, a new child named after me, signal an end to my time on this earth? Was this the time cancer was going to take me, perhaps as I might need to be this new Melodee's guardian angel?  I was feeling ALL.THE.THINGS. surrounding this news.

It's not like I wasn't happy about this amazing honor.  But, the mind can be a tricky thing.  I kept being led to dangerous thoughts:  Was the world big enough for me to keep being Melodee, and Baby Melodee to also be Melodee?  Was this God's way of letting me know that it was time to turn in my crown?

I didn't want to talk about these feelings because I didn't want my sister to think these thoughts, either, while she was still growing this baby and already had concerns about a healthy delivery.  I didn't want to tarnish this beautiful story about a baby name miracle.  I didn't want to introduce any doubt on this decision because I really did love the name.

I just couldn't stop thinking about the spots on my brain that had been discovered around the same time and how my doctors weren't sure if they were cancer, but they all believed it was highly likely that cancer was coming back in my brain.  Was I even going to be alive to meet my namesake niece?  Was this name going to be end up being in memorandum because it was "my time" to be called home?

And then the answer came:
My scans came back clear.  These spots weren't growing.  The were fading and getting more difficult to identify on a scan.  They were nothing that we need to worry about now.

I'm Melodee, and this baby can also be Melodee.  A name is a name.  There are often beautiful reasons and meanings behind them.  But, maybe---just maybe---this name is just a bit more special.  My heart is with this baby, the one I still haven't met, who shares my name, the one who was born by emergency c-section, with the umbilical cord around her neck, saved on a Saturday by an on-call doctor who made the decision to get her here quickly.  As another Saturday child, born quickly, ready to be here, even amidst challenges, I know that I will be here for her and her mother as long as I have breath in me.

This gift I've been given to be a part of this baby's world, an example, a support----I have no daughters of my own, but I hope she will let me love her with that same intensity.  'Cause this Melodee doesn't do anything mildly.

 Baby Melodee, you've come into this world with a little craziness already.  You're welcome.  



Keepin' on keepin' on kicking cancer (and whatever life brings at you!) to the curb, one day at a time!

H&P#42 + ECHO

I have people ask all the time, "How is your chemo?"

The drugs I take ARE cancer-fighting drugs, but they are also remission-maintenance drugs.  I call them "chemo," but what I do every three weeks, is MUCH less strenuous than a heavy-duty chemo treatment.  There are a few unpleasant side-effects, but nothing that can't be managed.  The one BIG one is cardiomyopathy.  (And, for those of you who are not fans of the similar diagnosis from Beaches, these drugs can mess with my heart.)

Thankfully, this cardiomyopathy is not viral and can be reversed, just by stopping the drugs.  We hope NOT to have to stop them, because cancer can kill ya, too, just not as quickly as heart problems.  

I had an echo the week after surgery.  (That week also held orthodontist appointments, a child's birthday, a well-check appointment at the pediatrician, and a concert.  Who needs sleep?)

Echocardiograms are SO easy.  No IVs, no big machines, no radioactive substance...just lying half-naked on a bed with a left-side trapdoor, for access to scan the other side of the heart, while a tech, who's "not supposed to give me any results" scans and listens to my heart to make sure it's healthy enough for chemo. 

And, what do you know.....my heart RULES!  Still pumping after all the crap its been put through.  

Probably because I'm so loved.  

(Cuz, it's DEF not from working out!)

My time here is short.  It's sad that I'm leaving such a HUGE part of my Cancer Warriors and searching out a new crew.  Hopefully, I can come back anytime I need a "second opinion" or just when I want to go where everybody knows my name, and they're always glad I came!

My new office will learn all about my fight to BTHO cancer AND kicking it to the curb with my fancy shoes.  

Oophorectomy

Fighting cancer and raising boys during a record-breaking heat summer, while trying to keep a house pristine in order to sell it, and trying to work around Stephen's insane work schedule......not my favorite.  I had so many plans for this summer, and then we decided to move, and instead of an enriching summer school for the boys, complete with cooking classes and field trips, we've upped screen time and throw in swimming to break it up.  

The boys and I were also able to sneak away for another week of vacation and surprising family with a visit.  Family is everything. 

And, then it was STRAIGHT back into our real world of fighting cancer and raising boys and hot days and attempts at a pristine house.  That week back, I met with Dr. Goble on Monday, saw Dr. Fleener on Tuesday, had an unrelated appointment on Wednesday, and pre-registered for surgery on Friday.  YES.....what would all of the fun of this summer be without surgery?!

I was originally scheduled to have my ovaries removed on July 31.  However, with all of the aforementioned activities{?} planned, I attempted to move up the date.  I hadn't heard anything, so Dr. Fleener contacted Dr. Jansky right then...during my appointment!  There was a VERY good reason why my case had fallen through the cracks, and it didn't matter because they could squeeze me in for the following Monday.  

Thank goodness for our support system to help out with childcare!  (Maybe they did a better job of providing an enriching array of activities.  Or, maybe they stuck with screen time.  By the time I got home, everyone was still alive, so who cares?)

Thankfully, I didn't have the first case of the days, which meant I could show up at a reasonable hour, you know, after the sun had risen.  The later-in-the-day surgery, DID mean I had to go longer without eating or drinking, but not too much.

  Stephen was able to be with me AND handpick anesthesia.  

Port accessed!  No worries about IVs!  

I took a few pills beforehand, and we were off!  

Apparently, those pills were all the pain meds I needed DURING SURGERY!  Afterwards, I was so out of it, I just wanted to sleep!  They (including Stephen) kept asking me if I was in pain or needed anything for pain, and I was just tired.  (I remember NONE of this.)  Since I wasn't hurting at all, I didn't even get any pain meds for at home.  Apparently, all I need is a good drug-induced nap every now and then, even when REMOVING MAJOR FEMALE ORGANS FROM MY BODY!  Who needs something for the pain?  

I really did feel fine.  In fact, I finally took my kids to the library to redeem their summer reading...THE NEXT DAY....to the complete shock and chagrin of my mother.  (Remember all else that we're dealing with this summer?  Laparoscopic surgery......I've dealt with worse.)

Speaking of worse, I still carry many of the physical scars to prove it.  Thankfully, Dr. Jansky used the biggest of those, just adding a new one to the existing line, along with accessing my fake belly-button and adding a new mark to the mix, but only the tiniest of openings.  These are the battle scars, four days after surgery.  Still bruised and stitched, but no pain.  

I'm hoping this newest treatment in my arsenal will ease the need for so much emphasis on the estrogen-blasting front. I'm done with babies.  My eggs were no good, anyway.  Plus, I'm pretty sure there's a 100% chance I don't have to worry about ovarian cancer, but leave it to my body to still find a way!

Follow Up MRI #2, Results

With no changes in symptoms, I was pretty confident that the results from this MRI would also show no change.  

Thankfully, my lovely nurses at the Cancer Clinic were wonderful enough to access my port, thus relieving much of the stress involved with the actual procedure.  

Then, it was time to hurry up and wait.  

By now, they recognize me pretty well there.  

The test was in and out.

I was a little surprised that they just asked, "you know your way out, right?"

I guess I'm becoming to much of a regular.  I don't even get escorted back to the front desk.  

At least my nurses laughed about it and promised to never treat me with a "don't let the door hit you on the way out" kind of attitude.  

I sure am going to miss them!

Later that afternoon, I headed out for what I thought was an appointment with Dr. Hoover.  However, sometime during my trip to the lake (with no cell or internet service) I missed that my appointment had been canceled.  So, when I thought I'd get to see and hear the results of the MRI quickly, I'd have to wait until after my next trip.  But, after pleading and playing the cancer card, I was able to get a promise that Dr. Hoover would go over my results STAT and get back to me ASAP.

I didn't want to wait, so I called Dr. Goble's office to see if he'd received any reports.  He got on the phone to tell me that the results were great.  The spots in my brain were actually smaller than before.  This was good news, as this change suggested that they were NOT CANCER!!!!  

If there was to be a change, THIS was the type of change I was hoping for.  

I had also put in a call to Dr. Fleener's office, and received a report of good news from one of the nurses there, as well.  

A few days later, as I was packing for my next trip, Dr. Hoover called.  His report was even better than the others.  He explained that radiology described the spots in my brain as having decreased.  In his opinion, for someone who didn't know about my history and was doing an MRI without any others to compare, the spots were so insignificant that they might not even notice them!  From a doctor who originally assumed that these spots would eventually grow into cancer, this was HUGE. 

Miracles continue.  

I cannot express my gratitude.  

I am humbled and often feel like I am not worthy of so many amazing blessings, but how thankful I am that they keep coming.  

H&P #41 + Appointment with Fleener

Just another day in paradise.  

This summer has been crazy already:

Trying to keep the house show-ready at all times,

trip to Arkansas,

trip to Utah,

herding three wild kittens who are out of school for the summer,

preparing for oophorectomy.  

Gotta just keep on kicking cancer to the curb.