Crash, burn, get up

Ah, the fog has cleared. Every few months I have a Crash and Burn few days where I just totally, totally “bonk out” as they say in endurance sports. Last week was kind of a lot—the 4 mile run, yoga, work, Cytoxan, the party, the Portland visitors… and I bonked out. But the good news is I am much better at dealing with bonking than I was the first few times. Here are the lessons I’ve learned:
-continue to eat and drink water even though you feel like crap
-freakin take your Zofran before the nausea gets really bad
-it’s OK to sleep…
-as long as you are sleeping and not just lying in bed, lacking the motivation to get up

Once I reach the lying in bed with no motivation to get up, then it’s time to get up, force feed, and go to work and attempt to engage in life. That was today.

To give you a run down, I went to the party on Friday night where I must now digress and share the uninteresting update: party not that awkward. There were a ton of people there, including a lot of people that I am friends with so while I had many normal and pleasant interactions with the young man in question (including a moment I know he was checking out my ass in my jeans—and it looks good) there was no awkwardness. Well done, Jessie! As for the evening’s entertainment, my friend Elisa is a sex educator for Planned Parenthood and my new friend Nathan seemed to know a lot about sex and so most of us listened raptly to advice about... stuff. Let's just say I learned a lot.

Anyhoo, the Weeks and Verhoeven contingent made it down around 10, we met up with Birch and I did not go to bed until TWO IN THE MORNING. I know, it was so crazy. Saturday was a whirlwind of tourist-like activities and then just like that it was over. As soon as my friends left I got in bed and didn’t get out until yesterday afternoon when I realized I was hosting dinner club for 10 people. Luckily my mom was lurking in North Seattle, waiting to be useful and together we made BOMB polenta, red sauce, and used Virg’s awesome pesto to put together the perfect late-summer dinner.

Here is my red sauce recipe:
Sautee onions, peppers, garlic, summer squash
Add a bottle of beer (I used Pacifico)
Reduce
Add a goodly amount of fresh diced tomatoes
Salt, sugar, fresh basil to taste

Mmmmmm.

Today I made myself get up and go to work and tonight I went to yoga for the first time since Thursday. I was definitely a little stiff, but more than ready to hit it. Tomorrow I get to go to Eiric’s Wednesday morning class which I love but I think I’m going to have to start limiting my 9:30-11 yoga classes to about one a week if I’m going to start working “full time.”

I was just saying to my therapist that I was getting used to my cancer lifestyle—only working part time, doing lots of yoga, spending the rest of my time with the onc nurses at Swedish… Bah—Real Life, you loom large!

Here is Ben doing plow:

There's no such thing

As too many pairs of David Kahn jeans. Especially if you buy them on eBay. I know, I said I would never buys jeans on eBay again, but the third time must be a charm because these are absolutely perfect. I found my favorite pair of jeans that I bought about 18 months ago (and since have been discontinued) but two sizes smaller. They fit beautifully.

Oh right. I went to the oncologist today. Dr. K is back! I forgot to ask him about his vacation... I was too busy bragging about the 4 mile run. Anyway, my WBC is up to 8.2, my crit is 37 (up from 25), and platelets 223. That's pretty damn good. Pretty damn normal. Normal enough to start chemo. I was like "whoa there, I don't want to take Cytoxan because I don't want lymphoma and I possibly DO want babies." And Dr. K was like, "Jessie, I wrote a paper about how Cytoxan in such small doses as I'm giving you has no effect on whether you get cancer again and EVERY drug I give you has the possibility of rendering you infertile, but you're young and we'll just see..." And I was like, "meh, good enough, shoot me up."

Cytoxan in. Ara C shot #1 (of 8) done. This was the last big one. There are lots and lots of small drugs to come, but the Cytoxan is the last drug that will send my counts down and make me feel really bad. Ara-C just makes me not hungry which is awesome since I found out by reading my chart that my ideal weight is FORTY FIVE POUNDS less then I weigh right now as 5'8" and a size 10 (with huge breasts, I might add). Will someone redo the BMI already? I think we all realize that it's totally fucked up to call me obese.

The Cytoxan should take full effect sometime early next week so I'm planning on gettin down and partying at Brandon's b-day tomorrow. And perhaps visitors from the South will arriving on my doorstep? Have I ever mentioned what BAMF friends I have? I have BAMF friends.

It's so good to keep doing the "lasts." A couple weeks ago I could tell my nurses, "this is my last Adriomyacin." Today I was able to say to everyone "this is the last Bad Drug I have to take." It was almost scary. On one hand I totally hate chemo and I hate what it's done to my life, but who will I be and what will I do when I have to merge back into the semblance of a normal life? I mean, luckily I have monthly chemo for years, but when they pull the Hick, when the big stuff is over, when my social life doesn't revolve around the nursing staff at the Swedish Cancer Center... My therapist was like, "the transition back can be rough." And I was like, "hah!" But today I had my first taste of panic. I've gotten really good at being a cancer patient. I'm like the best cancer patient at Swedish. Everyone loves me. I do everything I'm supposed to... anyway, I'm good at normal life too, I just saw the light at the end of the tunnel today and it was really bright.

Jessie gets angry

I was just internet-ing and came across this website:

http://www.stbaldricks.org/

I find it OFFENSIVE when people shave their heads to make cancer patients feel better. It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. How can you equate you shaving your fucking head with the fact that I am taking toxic poisons that are making my hair fall out (and my stomach cells die and my mouth break out in sores and oxygen harder to circulate) ? You don’t have cancer. You don’t want cancer. What are you doing fucking shaving your head? And why didn’t you pluck out your eye lashes and shave your eyebrows while you were at it? Because you’re fucking vain and you look stupid without eyebrows and eyelashes? No shit! But that’s what happens when you have cancer, you self-serving ass hole! It’s so fucking trite. It trivializes the whole experience. Having cancer is so much more than losing your hair. Wow, I am really heated about this. I actually didn’t tell one of my friends that I have cancer because I know her to be a head shaver. She would shave her head, say it was in solidarity with a cancer patient and then everyone would tell her how cute she looked. Oh my god, I’m getting so angry just thinking about it.

So anyway, a few of my female friends did (in infinite sweetness) offer to shave their heads and I let them off the hook. If I’m sad about losing my hair, why would I want that for anyone else? I don’t. And I kind of earn the right for people to feel sorry for me in my baldness because I actually have cancer. People who shave their heads who don’t have cancer do not deserve the same level of pity-driven respect that I get when I tell people my hair loss is due to cancer! It’s one of the 2 perks! The other perk is that I’ve lost 15lbs. Of course I have to pretend to be sad about that too. And everyone has to pretend that it’s bad that I’ve lost weight and that I should gain it back. Only my bitchy roommate was honest enough to say, “God, I’m jealous you’ve lost so much weight.” Of course I look better! America is obese--most people look better down 15lbs. Even people who are a normal weight. Skinny is hot. But it’s OK, I know why you can’t tell me I look great and why I can’t tell you that I’m happy about getting skinnier.

**Note: when I shaved my head, so did my friend Richard. And I really appreciated that I got to wield the clippers and someone else was shaving their head, but Richard is a man with short hair who looked very attractive with a shaved head. So I definitely appreciated the company, but no one ever tried to equate our experiences.

Anger is the word of the week. I’m pissed. I’m pissed about having cancer. I’m pissed about other awesome people having cancer. I'm pissed my counts were too low to start chemo tonight so I have to wait, WAIT another fucking week to get this over with.

When Kelly was here we talked about how this is really just kind of a shit time. That even folks without cancer were having a pretty hard time making decisions. It’s this damn awkward mid-20s. I actually was discussing this with my shrink as well. I was doing some questioning, soul-searching, self-absorbed mulling BEFORE I got cancer. Then I got sick and it was like I kind of got a little break from making stressful, grown up decisions. I know, I’m lucky, right?

Speaking of Kelly, she and Jade were here this weekend and it was awesome. We just hung out, Tripod-style. We went and saw Mama Mia which is a good girlfriend movie. A really good one. The one thing the three of us lack is a cheer. So Kelly is working on that.

Also awesome: The Departed, my friend Sara Gribs, yoga, high school students, and both the potential roommates we interviewed.

Not the best week ever

Things have been a little rocky around here lately. To summarize the last week, I have felt totally shitty and spent the majority of my waking hours in bed watching TV on the internet. Mostly it’s my stomach, but I’ve also just been really, really tired. On Monday I went into Dr. K who was like, “call me when you feel this bad!” and gave me some good anti-nausea stuff. I know I need to do a better job asking for things like drugs, but the thing is, I hate the idea of taking lots of pills. We’ve been down this road before, internet, remember? Anyway, my stomach is better, but I’m still pretty freakin beat.

How anyone could spend four days in a row not getting out of bed? How would she occupy herself; keep from going bat shit crazy? In an effort to reorient myself with pop culture, I watched the first three seasons of Weeds, and then started in on Heroes. You might wonder why I didn’t watch the fourth season of Weeds… it’s because Weeds sucks. I know, I watched 40 episodes in 3 days. I despise all the characters and the fact that they just make life insanely difficult for themselves. Heroes is a little better, but I think I just hate TV. Speaking of TV, I re-hooked up ours to the bunny ears so we get 5 stations again and tonight I watched about 10 minutes of Girlalicious. It was disgusting, but very soothing. Actually, it’s fairly remarkable that I watch as little TV (Weeds binge aside) as I do being so lame and bed ridden for the last 6 months…

I’ve felt so… scared this last week. Feeling crummy again brings up all sort of unpleasant memories and anxieties. If I feel this bad now, how am I going to react to “Re-Intensification” in a couple weeks? You know I have to go back to the hospital right? I am just now realizing how completely terrifying I find this prospect. I have serious stress about it. I actually have a list of things I’m pretty worried about regarding my next cycle of drugs, but making a list now before anything happens doesn’t seem like it would be that productive. It’s just the unknown, you know?

Tomorrow I’m taking overnight trip to the North Cascades for work. I’m just hoping I find some crazy energy surge to help me make it through… Oh, and did I mention I gave up coffee because it was irritating my stomach? Boo!

But as I like to say, every day I just get richer and thinner. So that’s good.

The Thaw

Any good EcoFeminist knows that it's dangerous to create a dichotomy between the brain and body. For too many years the patriarchy has equated the masculine with thinking qualities and the feminine with the body and *baser*, more earthly things. They then used this dichotomy to justify wanton destruction of the natural world and the the subjugation women's bodies and minds. Blah, blah, blah dichotomies suck. Blah, blah, blah the brain and body are both beautiful. Thankfully because this is a blog there is no need for footnotes--just trust that I know a lot about this stuff.

OK with that for an introduction, I went running again today. My inner dialog went like this:
Brain: "thanks Body, for finally getting your act together."
Body:"You know what? Fuck you, Brain--you can't understand what I've been through and I'm doing this for me not for you just because you're all depressed and needing endorphins."
Brain: "Well this is hard for me too--I hate change! You aren't the only one suffering so stop feeling so sorry for yourself. You were never the superstar, anyway."
Body: "Why do you only love me when I'm skinny?"
Brain: "Oh shit, do we have to talk about this again?"

Uh. The point is that all of this is getting easier, but I'm still a freakin gimp.

Last night CL and Brandon took me to a Mudhen Rugby fundraiser--lube wrestling. Holy Moley I miss rugby. I miss the women who play. I miss the game. I miss getting hit. I miss hitting. I miss drinking beer like you've really freakin earned it. I miss flashing my boobs at my teammates and making really obscene gestures and the like. Next weekend is the rugby Alumni Game in Eugene. It couldn't come at a better time.

I feel like I'm at a good enough place mentally and physically that all of this stuff I had put "on hold" when I got sick is finally starting to... thaw out? Of course I have to be all cryptic about it because it involves people other than myself. So let's have a celebration for the fact that it's not all about Cancer and Me these days. Holler!

Tax Day

My mom still does my taxes. I know. I get a huge refund because I only made 12K this year, but I paid taxes in my actual income tax bracket which is significantly higher than 12K/year. That's pretty sweet. With GWB's little kicker I'm staring down some serious cash. What to do with it? Of course I want to go out and SPEND it on clothes, but that's what They want me to do. And I don't want to do what They want me to do.

I went back to Dr. K after my "week off" and guess what? I get another 10 days off! My platelets are still too low to work with, but they are coming up. I only need like 20, 000 more or something. I also was relieved to hear I'm still slightly anemic. While I've been pushing myself really hard to put on some of the muscle I've lost, it's hard to notice that anything has happened in the last week except that I've gained 5 lbs of... what? Fat, I'm pretty sure. Whatever. If I'm anemic, there's a chance that part of why it's so frickin' hard to walk up the stairs is because I don't have enough oxygen in my blood.

I meet with the radiologist on Monday and plan on starting radiation on the 28th. I start chemo again (spinal taps and oral drugs) late next week. I have to 6MP again which makes me nervous, but I'm taking 90% less, so it shouldn't shut things down this time around. Are you tired of hearing me talk about cancer? I just have one more thing to share. There's a doctor/physical therapist who is part of the oncology group that does PT/work out regimens for cancer patients and I am going to go see him next week. Hopefully he'll help me get my active-on.

Well, the only other thing of note is that Oasis was on the radio this morning and I decided to re-devote myself to What's the Story, Morning Glory?

Oh, and if you're getting married in September and you want me to come, tell me now because I have 3 freakin weddings to go to already!

Take a week off (not from blogging!)

I went to see Dr. K yesterday afternoon and the good news is my WBCs look phenomenal. I attribute this to my awesome immune system AND the 15 “G shots” I got in my stomach while in the hospital. Did I tell you about the “G shot?” It’s pretty much the ONLY amusing anecdote from my time the H. The shot that they give you to boost WBC production is called the “G shot” and EVERYONE says it with a straight face. And I entertained myself by making lots of little jokes in my head.

ANYWAY. I am down on platelets so Dr. K was like, “I can’t do anything with you until you have more platelets, take the week off[!]” He also told me I was looking very healthy which is what everyone is saying. Maybe by healthy they mean SKINNY since I have lost 8 lbs in the last month. And by skinny I just mean that my ASS is GONE. If you know me in real life then you know that I have a really big butt. It’s something I like about myself and of course, when I buy pants I always buy to accommodate. My butt is GONE. I don’t know where it went. I am devastated. And my pants don’t fit. I’ve been this weight/size many times before and so I have clothes that SHOULD fit, but since before weight loss occurred due to like, running and eating healthy and not lying in bed anorexic* for 3 weeks, my butt stayed its healthy size. Is this interesting? The point is that all my pants are baggy and stupid looking and I’m trying to eat and walk up lots of stairs to get my glutes back.

*Anorexia is the clinical term for not being hungry or interested in food. That was me in the H due to all the shitty antibiotics I was on and the fact that I was depressed.

Welllllllllll. Tomorrow is the first meeting of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society young adult group and I am tentatively excited about meeting other sick people. Last night I had a mini break down where I was just feeling alone and like no one could understand me. My friends are so amazing and most of the time all I want is to be normal and hang out with normal, healthy people, but then I have moments (like 18 days in the hospital) where I realize I’m NOT normal and healthy right now and that I can’t keep up with my old life. Blah, blah, blah, I just can’t wait to be better.

Oh, and yesterday was Lauren's birthday! Happy Birthday Lauren!

Back

And just like that it was over. I left the hospital yesterday morning and have been trying to acclimate back to real life.

These last 18 days took a lot out of me physically and emotionally. I’m not sure I realized at the time quite how sick I was and how hard it was on my body to run high temperatures for days at a time. Physically, I feel so weak and tired. I lost an amazing amount of muscle mass in my legs. My pants are hanging off me, but it doesn’t look good AND I can’t walk up a flight of stairs without getting really tired. This is the stupidest way to lose weight ever, by the way.

As for my emotional state, I feel wasted. The hospital really brought me down in ways I can’t explain. It was torture. My spirit feels weak which is so much harder to deal with than weak legs. I feel differently about this state of infirmary now. I am a Real Sick Person.

I don’t expect to be Sick for much longer. Being out of the hosp and back at work should bring my endorphins back. If not, my mom, the social worker, and Dr. K have all been making noises about anti depressants and how chemically, this experience really whacked out my brain and I might need some help normalizing… As for my legs, we all know my massive hams love nothing more than to gain muscle mass at alarming speed… it will just be hard work. I hate having to go back to zero.

Today I am celebrating that I am work and I have been here since 9am. It feels so good to have things to do and structure to my day.