A List

I feel like I need to make a list of all the things that are going on with my mind, body, soul, life, and whatever else. May not make sense, will not be in order, may be a list, may be a long run on sentence. Its a free for all....

radiation
blessed, not in pain, 21 down so far, after today 22 down, just a little red, blessed again, thank god something has been easy for me so far, not tired at all because of the steroids I am on, took a sleeping pill last night, try not to, but sleep is one horrible dream and can't get to acutal sleep due to the steroids, drink lots of water throughout the night, thirsty lots of the time, want to drink water all day long because its my only way of cleaning out my body, I wish I could do my yearly spring cleanse, docs and cancer ND won't let me, icky toxins deep in my skin, am thankful for the icky toxins in my skin, kill the cancer, scared, what if it comes back, what if its just hiding, what ifs, shut them down and out, keep focused on the present moment, breath, what will be will be, worrying about it won't change a thing except I will not enjoy my time right now, its windy and a bird is chirping, chest hurts a little still, kind of painful and tight, hair is getting longer, and my eyelashes and eyebrows are coming back, can just stand at the mirror and gaze at my face, I sitll look so different, so puffy, it hurts when D just says how different I look and doesn't say that I am beautiful, but he doesn't neeed to lie so he just doesn't say it, so much needing I am over it, to be over it you have to shut down, not a good place to be, open back up, get love from somewhere else, open heather, open, trust. my little sister is pregnant and I haven't gotten to see her in months. She just got her first nursing job and so she's working a lot, might meet in Portland, I am incredibly jealous of her and her life, all I want is to be pregnant and be a mom, one simple simple lifes purpose, thats it, I can eat rice and beans and raise my kids on nothing, but there was a different plan for me, at least right now, I am willing to adopt and raise a child on my own because I want to be a mom so much, I can't think of a higher honour on this planet than to raise and then watch a child turn and love a family of his/her own, I am going to start attending a tibetean buddism meditation here in seattle, I need it.
Hot flashes are still holding firmly on my life, last night when I was giving my last massage of the day my stomach felt warm and it felt like an egg was dropping, like the good ol' days. I imagined myself starting to bleed, I welcomed it,a nd thought I would not be embarressed in the slightest if I had to stop the massage for that and that I'd probably start crying, but didn't happen. Not that it won't, I have no idea. Please body, return to normal.

Spring Strawberries

I feel so good and incredible today, I could scream. When I was a little kid growing up on the Oregon Coast, we didn't get to the city very much. I still remember one day, in our gigantically long and wide white pontiac as we were heading on the 26 into the city, my Mom stuck her head out the window and screamed, "I love you, Portland!!" Well, today, I feel that. I want to say, " Hello, Life. I love you!!"
I am eating strawberries, that are huge and delicious. I am still very emotional and this exuberance makes me want to cry. I have done a little gardening today, and tonight I am giving a massage. Its a good day.

Emotional Day

I had an incredible day today. The past few days my heart and soul have been touched deeply by the sun. I know, in the Pacific Northwest the sun doesn't come out very much. But on days like today and yesterday, I just can hardly keep a smile off my face. It is quite a different feeling I must say then in the past though. The sun has really touched my soul with HOPE the past few days. Strange and very unique, I must say. Kind of like the tree frog I managed to grab yesterday when I was walking around Fischer Pond on Vashon Island. The whole time I've been going through this hell ride, I just kept visualizing the end of it, would be the same time that the frogs would start their singing. And so yesterday, it was perfect that I saw one and let his little wet body touch me and my heart. The Frog has been a totem for me on this journey.
I had a wonderful day today. I had my 21st radiation appointment at my usual time of 8:15. I have become friends with all the folks in the waiting room with me. One gentlemans last day was today. His wife brought these delicious cookies, and I said what the heck, its 8:15 AM, why not! I congratulated him. And stood to shake his hand, but suddenly it was not enough and what he had gone through, what I had gone through, we embraced. I almost cried.
I went on my way, onto Vashon Island to give a massage. Doing massage is very good for me right now. With the steroid induced mania, massage forces me to focus all that energy and quiet myself down.
THen I went to see my Onc. When I was waiting for my blood work to be called, I saw a young couple, late 20's. The girl didn't have any hair, was in incredible shape, and was super sad. I started talking to her, asked her her age. Only 26, Hodkins. We just looked into each others eyes, after swapping our stories, not going into the roughness, but just acknowleging how rough its been. And she and I just simply cried. I cried for her. She still had 4 chemo's left, and I felt so bad for her. I gave her my number, and I hope that she calls me. Her name was Alanna.
I saw my Onc, and he told me that he couldn't take me off the steroids unless I took that pill, Colihcine. So, I started crying more. And told him I didn't want to go on it, and that I didn't want to go on it for a year, and that I was afraid I'd have to be on it for the rest of my life, and he hugged me. Looked me in the eye, and said would you take it please. So, yes. I took it today. It makes me really, really sad that I am taking this pill now. I wish I could just be done in a few weeks, and not have any lingering side effects. I am crying right now. I just want my body back. I just want Heather back. I miss her, deeply. I miss my joy. I miss my laughter. I miss her. I do.

Breathing into my skin

I am again, sitting here on the couch. I've been turning the heat off in the house while we sleep so that its cold. I think D is okay with that. No grumbles, haha. So, I'm sitting here as the house warms up with my fuzzy robe and blanket, and feeling like I am going to crawl out of my skin. I feel like I did some horrible horrible thing to someone in my stomach, or that I have a huge speech to give in 30 seconds, or something horrible. I checked in with myself, and thought, maybe its just that its time to take my steroid again. But then I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused on my heart, and I breathed into it. Did it a few more times, filling my heart with love for myself. And phew, I feel much better. Sortof..

I had a jam packed day yesterday. D drilled my wine barrels and I planted cauliflower, dinosaur kale, red kale, spinach, and lots and lots of different salad greens. It felt so good to be in the dirt, albeit just ittzy bitzy wine barrels. My friend Molly gave me a bunch of bulbs and I also went around the place setting them in the ground in three's. I can't wait to see them pop up.

My open house cancelled on my late last night, so I just a few buyers to go out with this morning, and then..blue skies so far. Maybe I'll put those roller blades on and go for a spin.

The taper begins

I was just sitting here on the coach, drinking my favorite black tea of the moment, Earl Grey, and was thinking, "What to write?" Its always more like, "Where to start?" Which the word start flashed across my damn eyes, and remembered, reluctantly that I have to start taking that anti-inflammatory pill for a year. Today. April, 3, 2009. You know what, I'm not going to do it. Fuck it. What if I take it for a year, and then stop, and then suddenly have another attack of it. Does that mean I will have to be on it forever. I don't want to be on a pill forever.
So, maybe if I don't take it today, or tomorrow,and have my Onc call me today, well..and I need to see my actual cardio, since I have not even seen him yet. I feel like a kid, scheming up a plan down a hidden and usused alley way, rubbing his (yes, I'd have to be a little boy for this kind of behaviour) hands together snickering of a fantastically absurd plan.

But, maybe its not absurd. So, since I haven't seen my actual cardio yet, I will. No rush to start taking a medicine.

Phew~ That was a close call. I almost just forced myself to go into the kitchen and ruin a perfect cup of tea with a memory of taking a pill.

Last night I took a 10mg of Predisone, instead of the 20mg. I'll see my Onc again on Monday, and will taper me if my lungs look good again. My chest X-Ray still showed fluid in there, but not that much.

Okay, Okay, O-KKK--AAA-YYYY

Okay, already. I'll go on the medicine, Colichine (spelling may be wrong) for a year. Every freakin' day. After I go kick and screaming. Isn't there a food that I can take to take away the inflammation? Sure, there is. But really, I need to not mess around with this. What just happened to me was really really not good for me. Its taken me a week to get my sails up. Albeit, steroid induced insanity. For some reason, this time my side-effects are TOTALLY different. I am super manic, intense (more than usual~watch out), and aggressive. My sister joked around "Roid rage".
So....Dr. K asked me if I wanted to go on anything to help relax me. When he started explaining what the med's were for, I said, "stop. No thanks." I'll try meditating and doing yoga each day instead. I'm slowly getting tapered off the steroids, so here we go. If I don't go on this colichine, than I have to stay on predisone. So, we'll give it a try and cross my fingers that I don't have another attack.
As far as exercise, I can start today. I misunderstood my Onc in the hospital. He thinks the exercise just exhasberated the inflammation and was NOT, NOT the cause of my recent attack. He agrees that I would've had it regardless.
Good news..I've lost 6 pounds in 4 days. Lots of water weight. I feel the best I've felt in a while. Well, in a way. Other ways, I feel a little jittery, and excessively hyper.

I figured it out

Phew! These steroids are making me hungry this time. Bizarre! Last time I was on Predisone they didn't make me hungry at all. I didn't sleep well without a pill, but I didn't wake up starving. I am not letting myself eat out of ordinary times right now. So I am just sitting with the hunger. I am sick of being heavy. Over it. Totally.
As a watchful young woman, I have witnessed all these beautiful women in my life get old. Or I have met them once they are old, and lamenting on the "good old days, of being "hot" I understand, more than ever know. But I understood before cancer. Vanity, and pride are huge ego boosters. And so not what is real, nor what matters. Before cancer, I understood this, I did, and so I always had a little less patience for it. Hearing all these grown women gawk at their arms, their wrinkles, their thighs, their whatever wasn't up to their par. As a young woman looking at these women, and hearing them, I always do and have seen their power that comes with those changes, and personally felt their beauty deeper than the peripheral they were grieving the loss of.
Basically, I wanted to say to them, " Get over it. Its not what lifes about. Love yourself, accept yourself."
I think one of the hardest parts of being a woman in America/Canada/Europe, wherever, is that we have a lack of ritual to guide us through our losses and our rites of passages. We have long ago let that go, and I think it makes it harder for, in this case, a woman to "change".
I've changed. I took down the pictures of myself two days ago. Pictures of my once beautiful, long hair, in various shades. The joy I had kills me to look at now. I am joyful, no one, not even cancer can take that away from me. I was born spastic for life, not crawling, but got up and ran at 7 months. I'm still there. But there is (oh, i'm starving, I might have to eat) no point making and pointing out to myself daily, constantly throughout the day, of the old carefree that I so long to reunite with. Those pictures of her, of me, have been helpful up to this point. And now that I am nearing the end of my battle, I don't want to see them. So I put all the pics away, all the wedding photos. Can't stand to look at them. I hope D and I make it through this. But honestly, its been incredibly hard. Words cannot express how hard. I just feel very thankful I have had him to go through this with me. To get me water when I couldn't move, to get me meds, to care for me the best he could.
Its easy to want and expect someone to love you the way you would to them. But that is not truely loving someone. I believe. I believe it is loving the person for who they are and accepting what it is they are able to give to you. At times like these, and in life, though I never could imagine it, and now I do, this is how people can grow apart. The giving, the needing, in my case, changed. It grew to an intensity, that no one wishes for. But I needed to need, and I deserved to need, and it was and is all encompassing. Its a beautiful thing to grow.
Back to me changing. Body stuff. So, its hard. The wise young woman has to say to the "chemopausal" "menopausal" 34, how fucked up is that? that its okay I have lots and lots of gray hair coming in, where before cancer I had blond/brown hair. Its okay, that I am swollen and huge. Its okay. Yesterday, since I just sold a house, I went and bought myself a new outfit, that fits. The super-sized Heather pants no longer fit, yeah! And the 1st time out of hospital pants I bought don't fit, they're too tight right now. Wearing pants that don't fit, sucks. I have never had to deal with this, and I realized waiting to fit in to the smaller ones was ridiculous and a form of not accepting myself and loving myself. I was in costant torture, or I was constantly walking around with super baggy pants. Ick!
Those are the two ways I decided to love myself more this week. Take down the old pictures that were torturing me, and get a pair of pants that fit.
Two last thoughts. One is that I spelled the therapists name wrong, for those of you that googled her. It is Janet Abrams.
And the last, is that maybe my left eye (its getting better, by the way) want to be weepy because it is reminding me to cry more often.