Shrinking Violet

I Sing the Body Electric

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 27 Dec 2021 02:37:00 +0000

What I am about to say is difficult to say the least...I share this with you because an important thing has happened to me as far as my cancer goes and once again I write this as a way to inform, inspire and work out my own feelings. I do not write this for praise, or to be told how strong or brave I am...I write this to because my blog is my living testimony to what cancer is and does to someone...our stories are never the same but it is my hope that I can reach some women and we can save some lives...

Some of the things I will say in this blog may seem icky and gross. But they are natural body functions and I trust if you are reading this you took biology. I have to speak frankly about what happened to me because it is the only way I can teach about this disease.

I hope you will read and share and help save some lives...over 5 years ago I wrote a blog ("Unstoppable") to let everyone know I have cancer...I feel like today I need to do an update to that because at that time I had no idea the hell that was ahead of me. I was almost flippant about what I was about to go through and at that time thought it was a tiny minor cancer...little did I know...so here my friends is what it's like to face the beast..

ONCE MORE...

Hello Darlings...

I have cancer

AGAIN

That is the most terrifying thing I have ever said.

But I say it to claim it so that I can have dominion over it.

To go further:

I have Stage 4 Uterine Pappilary Serous Carcinoma

AGAIN

I've said it and now I claim it: I have cancer again

Yes, once again El Diablo is back and he's reeking havoc on my body

A routine scan has shown that there are metastisis and my CA125 is higher than it has been in 5 years so I am in trouble.

El Diablo is back and this time he took me by surprise again.

I was just minding my own business enjoying my new knees and wham the rug is pulled out from under me just in time to ruin my Christmas.

But such is the beast that is Uterine Papillary Serous Carcinoma.

A cancer you have probably never heard of...until me...

it behaves quite badly and recurrences are never good

I have a recurrence of the cancer

there I said it and I own it

(and I am trying not to say "my" cancer because after an amazing counseling session with my dear friend/therapist/soul guide/heart sister Chausey I am claiming what is real but not claiming it to be me or mine...there is cancer but it is not MINE)

Now I'm about to give you a lovely review session of all the fun that has happened to me since November 2016...if you want to skip it (there is no extra credit for reading it other than you get the chance to say "dear God no wonder she knows all the nurses by name") scroll to where it is underlined and I say to start reading again...if you want the full premium package of this blog keep going from here...

Until I was diagnosed I had not known anyone personally who had Uterine Cancer. I had a few friends who faced cervical and sadly a lot of friends who had battled breast...but until I got this I didn't know anyone who faced it.

I've always been scared about getting cancer...and I have a dear friend I love and admire who battled stage 4 Ovarian cancer and she beat it...and it scared the holy hell out of me knowing what she went through.

I have another friend who battled breast cancer 3 times and has gone through hell with it and while she battled I cried with awe at her strength.

Both of those women became my "roadmaps" as how to handle all of this...along with other friends who have battled cancer.

My journey to knowing I had cancer was a long one. Because the symptoms and signs of Uterine (and Ovarian) cancer are quite silent...or they look like something else (menopause). You can't feel the cancer (like a lump) and the main sign is bleeding and all women of a certain age bleed. There are no screenings like a mammogram or colonoscopy. There are no easy reliable tests.

But not all women realize that once you have stopped bleeding you should not bleed again.

In the spring of 2016 I started to feel "off"...I knew something was wrong inside my body.

I figured it was menopause.

I went to my GP and she ran tests and sent me to the cardiologist.

I had a stress test and ultrasounds of my heart and all kinds of other tests but all that it showed is that my blood pressure was a bit high and my cholesterol was a bit high but otherwise my heart was in great shape despite being overweight.

My thyroid was fine...we even had an ultrasound of it to be sure.

So I went on blood pressure medicines and a statin and I didn't feel any better.

I was due for my annual well woman exam so I went to my gyno Dr. Gorgeous and told her how I was struggling to lose weight, was tired a lot, and I felt "off". This was May, 2016.

She did my exam and all seemed ok and my pap came back negative so she sent me to the endocrinologist to see if there was something there.

The endocrinologist checked my thyroid again and my cortisol levels.

Normal.

God I miss "normal"

Hell what is normal? I don't even know anymore because my body has become a game of whack-a-mole and has been since 2016.

When she told me that everything checked out ok in my endocrine system I started crying out of frustration...she assured me she understood and agreed that yes there probably was something going on with me but it was not my endocrine system.

That was July 2016.

So I sent my son off to college in August and I thought: "now it is MY time...all the invitations I have turned down, all the things I have not done, all the sacrifices I have made to raise my kids and be a good and present mom are now done and I can focus on me. Maybe I can even meet a nice man to have a relationship with---it would be nice to date and have someone. Maybe I can just get to know me for a while and learn what it is like to be just me".

God

said

"Ha!"

I've learned not to make plans anymore...when I do God lets me know I'm not in control.

Two weeks after sending the kiddo off I woke up in a pool of blood in my bed.

I've had bad periods but not that bad.

A few weeks later it happened again.

A tingling started inside my brain that something was wrong but every time the word "cancer" entered my brain I swatted it away.

By October I was not only having periods from hell with clots the size of tampons but then I began to bleed in between my periods...and I was on the pill to control that...

After 10 days straight of bleeding I knew I had to do something.

I saw my gyno and she began to run tests...she confirmed that my bleeding was a sign that there was something wrong and we needed to get to the bottom of it.

And I was in a lot of pain.

Like needing pain meds kind of pain.

I had an ultrasound of my uterus

it was "normal"

except for fibroids...which we knew were there...

I had a CT scan...

It was "normal"

just an enlarged uterus (the size of a uterus that is 3 months pregnant) and some enlarged lymph nodes...

nothing to panic about...

but she also ran a blood test called a CA125 that measures proteins given off by cancer cells.

"Normal" is under 35...

I was in the 600's...

yeah that was not "normal"

Y'all I'm a high achiever and I like to be the top of the class but this was one time that my overachieving was not in my favor...

Dr Gorgeous and Dr Hubby (her husband who is also a gyno) knew that there was trouble ahead and so I was scheduled for a D&C (and biopsy...but I wasn't aware of that at that time).

On November 4, 2016 I went to their office and had a D&C and Dr Gorgeous took a lot of biopsies because she could see from the scope that there was something wrong...

That morning after the procedure and after a few tears it was decided that I was going to have a hysterectomy but first we would wait for the pathology results to see what the heck was going on.

Cancer buzzed in my head again but again I swatted it away and went on doing my job at the school.

But the possibility of cancer being the cause of my troubles kept creeping into my head.

GOTT (the smartest man I know who just happens to be my work hubby and male bestie) said "you don't have cancer until they tell you that you have cancer". The man is not only the greatest teacher ever but he also knows just what to say to keep me calm (although sometimes when he says "I just want you to handle it" I want to throat punch him...then I handle it...)

I held on to that nugget of great advice.

Dr. Gorgeous would call and text to check in on me...the pathology was taking a lot longer than we expected.

The pain got worse each day.

A lot of pain.

Like take a Tylenol 3 every night when I got home pain.

My uterus was screaming to get out.

I prepared for my hysterectomy and while I was literally on my way to the hospital for my pre-surgery labs and screening I got a phone call from Dr Gorgeous.

She told me to pull over.

You know that bad news is ahead when you are told to pull over...

Kute Karen was along for the ride so she held my hand while Dr Gorgeous informed me that the cells in the biospy were abnormal and the pathologist was trying to pinpoint what it was but it did indeed seem to possibly be cancer.

Cancer

How did I go from being a woman who was looking forward in life to one who's life might end?

I did the pre-op stuff but Dr Gorgeous warned me that most likely she would not be doing the hysterectomy.

An hour later, on November 14, 2016 she called me back and said she had cancelled my hysterectomy and gave me the name of the oncologist I would be seeing later that week.

It was cancer

We didn't know yet what kind but yeah...cancer...

My world stopped.

I needed an oncologist?

What

The

Hell

And then I went to the liquor store and bought the biggest bottle of vodka I could find. I also booked my bikes at Revolution so I could ride nd yoga myself into not going insane.

I ran into a friend when I was in the parking lot of the liquor store. She saw me in my car and as she walked up she found me crying.

She held my hand and helped me out of the car and pushed the basket in the liquor store and was very "present" for me at that moment. I don't think I would have gotten my vodka without her...

and dammit I needed vodka

My next step was to call the oncologist office and make an appointment.

I have an oncologist.

There I said it and I own it

Actually I have 2 now...both are totally badass

Words I never thought I would say.

Thanks to my gyno they already had an appointment booked for me for the end of the week but they needed information...I numbly gave it to them, took down the address of where I was to go and felt like I was living in some surreal dream and I was very ready to wake up.

On Thursday, November 17 at around 7 o'clock I got the call that made it all become very real.

The pathologist had confirmed that I had Uterine cancer.

Some sort of rare, agressive kind but that is what it was.

Dr. Gorgeous called me and in the kindest and most loving way possible she told me the news.

We cried on the phone a bit and I kept thinking "this can't be real".

After I hung up with her I took a stiff drink and called my Aunt Jane (she is my "person"...she's my best friend, my confidante, my mom, my aunt, my rock...).

I had to say the words out loud.

"I have uterine cancer"

Have

Uterine

Cancer

So now we knew...

When the words go from "it MIGHT be cancer" to "it IS cancer" your body and mind literally feel like you have been punched.

(and just a nugget of advice here---DO NOT ever tell someone who actually HAS cancer about the time you "might" have had cancer...it's not the same...trust me on this...)

I sat on my sofa after those calls, continued with that stiff drink and knew my world and my life had changed forever.

How was I going to tell my kids?

How did I get cancer?

Uterine cancer? What the hell was that?

My uterus had given me the two greatest gifts of my life---my kids...and now it was trying to kill me.

I don't know how I slept that night but the next morning Aunt Jane picked me up and we drove to the Cancer Center.

The Cancer Center.

A place I am now so familiar with that I know everyone by name.

But that day, November 18 2016, when I stepped off the elevator and saw the words "Cancer Center" on the wall I wanted to throw up.

I looked around the waiting room and saw some VERY SICK PEOPLE.

How did I get here?

That woman who was bald and shivering in a blanket---would I end up like her?

The man in a wheelchair who could not stay awake---was that going to be me?

The woman who looked to be in so much pain---was I going to look like her soon?

I was called back to a room and like some sort of magical miracle Dr. Gorgeous showed up and came into the room to hug me.

And then she said "this is where I go from being your doctor to being your friend...you are now her patient...and I am here to support you but I am going to leave before she comes in so she knows you are here to listen to her and do as she says. She is as good as they get so trust her."

We both cried, hugged again and she left the room and told me to call her when after I met the oncologist.

I call my oncologist Dr Rockstar.

Because she is.

And when she walked into the room I knew right then and there that she was going to save my life.

Got an immediate full on doctor and woman crush on her.

Her first question:

Do you know why you are here?

I said "yes, I have uterine cancer"

She said "ok, the hard part is over... now we do what we can to fix it"

I liked that she was ready to go and do whatever it took to take care of me.

I sat in that exam room and as fearful as I was at that moment I also knew I had been led to the right doctor for me.

I asked her about chemo and radiation and she said "one step at a time" and we scheduled surgery.

Or rather TRIED to schedule surgery.

It was the end of November and there were a lot of surgeries scheduled because it was near the end of the year and all the "I can have this surgery now because I met my deductable" people were having their elective surgeries and despite having 30 something ORs there wasn't a lot of room on the schedule to get me in.

But Dr Rockstar pushed.

And I told the scheduling lady that I had cancer and she needed to get me on there.

The told me I would not know until the day I was scheduled if I was for sure going to have the surgery.

I prayed.

So 10 days later, on November 28, I got a phone call confirming I was going to have surgery and to go to the hospital.

I didn't need to be there until noon but I had had to stop eating and drinking at midnight before.

These days they let you drink up until a few hours before but 4 years ago that what still the norm.

Aunt Jane and I checked in at the hospital and after 3 more kinds of check ins I was given a little room to wait in until it was time for the uterus to get yanked.

Dr Gorgeous and Dr Husband showed up for moral support and Dr Husband made sure I was going to be put into the best darn room on the gyno floor and Dr Gorgeous took Aunt Jane to get something to eat because it was going to be a long day.

I brought a tiara with me so I wore it along with my hospital gown.

Because I'm a princess y'all and everyone needed to know it.

It was a long afternoon of waiting...I could hear the helicopters landing so I knew that Life Flight had just brought another person in that was going to need an OR more immediately than me...

Finally around 5 the anesthesiologist came in to tell me it would be soon...after that a resident came to say that Dr Rockstar had napped, eaten and was ready to battle some cancer.

Dr. Rockstar walked in about 6 and told me she was going to do everything she could.

I told her I wanted to live so please save me.

I got a big hug in response to that...

She went to get ready and I was wheeled over to the pre-op area and once there the curtain drew back and there was Dr. Husband.

I started bawling...

he told me Dr Gorgeous was parking the car and that they were scrubbing in.

I honestly felt so much love at that moment my fear was gone.

(and yes I know how blessed I am that two of the best gynos in town were there for my surgery).

5 hours later Dr Rockstar went to the room where Aunt Jane was waiting and she filled her in.

It wasn't a pretty picture and Aunt Jane said she looked like she had been to war.

And she had...

with my uterus...

The disease had spread and was also in lymph nodes that she was unable to remove because it was far too risky.

At that point I was staged at Stage 3 but that changed once Dr. Angel saw my scans 6 months later.

Recovery was hard...and knowing that I was facing chemo and radiation made it harder.

Since that surgery I have had 4 more trips to the OR thanks to cancer:

a hernia repair because I lifted heavy things too soon

a spinal fusion on my L4/L5 disk

a spinal fusion on my L3/L4 disk

another spinal fusion on L3/L4 disk that decided to disentigrate

I have also had:

6 rounds of carboplatin/taxol

25 rounds of pelvic radiation

3 rounds of brachytherapy (internal radiation)

30 rounds of radiation to lymph nodes in my neck (boosted by weekly rounds of chemo)

a year of cisplatin/gemcitibine chemo every 3 weeks

(then got allergic to cisplatin)

5 months of gemcitibine chemo every 2 weeks

and then the miracle of Keytruda/Lenvima which is immuntherapy and chemo pills and was on that from December 2019 until March 2021.

I kept my hair because I cold capped but chemo took my lashes and brows for a while.

My weight has blown up thanks to constant steroids being prescribed.

I have fought cancer pretty much non-stop for 4 years and 4 months...

Cancer will take your dignity and modesty away...and when it is a gyno cancer you learn to quietly accept that you will have the most intimate parts of your body exposed and examined.

I have a cancer that has a terrible prognosis...but I plan to be an exception to that rule.

People say I'm brave...inspirational...strong...a warrior...

I do not know if any of that is really true...

because there are days that I am so weak I don't want to get out of bed and it's not the cancer but rather my own exhaustion of having to constantly fight this beast.

I may be brave but I cry every time I am poked with an iv and every time I got on the table for radiation I was terrified.

I do not think I am anything special...I'm just a woman who was put in front of a lion and told to fight.

On March 12, 2021 I finally got to hear the words I had wanted to hear for so long:

"I SEE NO EVIDENCE OF DISEASE"

My wonderful oncologist Dr Pretty P told me that...we hugged, we laughed, we cried...

I couldn't believe it was real.

I beat the beast.

El Diablo was vanquished.

I could go on with living my life without cancer treatments.

She was very careful to say "I'm giving you a break".

She never said "you are done"

or that I was cured...because UPSC is pretty much impossible to kill

But at that moment my Aunt Jane and I got to celebrate what had seemed impossible.

Immunotherapy had saved me.

So I booked a knee replacement and lived through the hell of that.

And then my colon decided that colitis would be a fun thing to try and I ended up with diarrhea for over 2 months nonstop.

The gastroenterologists say it was my body's reaction to the Keytruda.

I got so sick I had 2 trips to the ER because of it and a hospitalization for a week along with a super fun colonoscopy that is miserable if you are healthy and damn near impossible if you are really sick.

I was really sick.

They had to give me ativan just to get through the prep so I was pretty much a drunken sailor the whole time and the prep was so vile it made me sick to my stomach.

I have to give praise and thanks to my charge nurse who finally put a stop to the prep once she realized how sick and weak I was and that I had not had a morsel of solid food for 5 days so yeah I was pretty clean down there. My nurse argued. He won't be my nurse again. She gave me a sleeping pill and held my hand.

and just because I am an over achiever it was noted in the colonoscopy notes that my prep was EXCELLENT so take that nurse who would not listen.

When they were about to start the colonoscopy the nurse asked if they could do some prep stuff before they sedated me and said she did not want to sacrifice my dignity. I told her that I lost 90% of my dignity having to lay bare ass up on a radiation table for 5 weeks and what was left of that dignity had blown away the night before when I was forced to use a bedside toilet and ask a nurse to wipe me because I was too weak (and she was the kindest woman ever).

Cancer makes you forget modesty when you have the most intimate parts of your body examined and prodded. You just have to let it go and get over it otherwise you won't survive.

I've given up modesty

I've given up dignity

I've given up vanity

I have scars everywhere.

My legs are now both blown up with lymphedema and I will never be able to live without compression on them. There is no cure. I will forever have thighs bigger than most people's waists no matter how much weight I lose. My lymphatic system is just not keeping up.

My gut now has a mind of its own.

Thankfully I now have 2 new knees but it is hard to use them properly because of the swelling from the lymphedema.

But at least the joint doesn't hurt...

But the rest of my joints do hurt because thanks to the medicine induced colitis and the Keytruda my joints now are subject to peripheral spondyloarthritis (it is a miracle I know that is what it is called because the rheumotologist told me that one hour post colonocopy so instead of the world's greatest nap I had to deal with him).

My right wrist is so bad there is a lump...it will likely get worse and might need surgical intervention.

Cancer has caused me so much emotional pain but the physical stuff has been horrific...here's a little list for you in case you are faced with some of the fun things I have experienced:

Here is how I rank the pain I have experienced from worst to least painful:

spinal fusion #1 (sciatic nerve involved)

L3/L4 disk shredding and laying on sciatic nerve (hence the surgery above)

recovery from knee replacement #2

frozen shoulder (prior to surgery...once fixed the angel choir sang)

waking up from knee replacement #1

recovery from knee replacement #1

hysterectomy

hernia repair

childbirth #1

spinal fusion #3

spinal fusion #2 (hey morphine I see you)

childbirth #2

ectopic pregnancy (but very emotionally painful)

tummy tuck and breast implants

meniscus repair #1

meniscus repair #2

gall bladder removal

pain in my left lower leg coinciding with colitis

D&C for miscarriage

hysteroscopy to find cancer

I don't remember how I felt after my tonsils were removed but I am sure I was a big diva. I insisted I would not have them removed by anyone other that Doc Martin (my mother's OB and family friend) or Doc Johnson (a heart surgeon and family friend). I believe they flipped a coin to see who would do it but I insisted on seeing both of them prior and Doc Martin carried me to the operating room and kept saying "it's ok Niecey". The poor man also had to stitch me up once on my hand. He was a saint.

Now I am not listing these as a way for you to be impressed (I had to think about how many times I have been in an OR) but yes I am correct in saying that having frozen shoulder was a bit more painful than one of my knee replacements. If you get one go get it manipulated ASAP because there is no getting comfy with that going on. Ugly stuff. Most likely caused by the Keytruda.

As for the sciatic stuff if you ask a certain few of my friends and family who witnessed me during the throws of that they will shudder and throw up their hands and say "I don't wanna talk about it" because someone (someone being me) was refusing to go to the hospital (because Anice doesn't love going to the ER). I have to say I think we all have PTSD from it...

And now I have another compressed disk so it's just a matter of time before one morning I wake up with a backache and then suddenly I fall on the floor and can't walk.

They want to give me a myelogram which sounds super fun since they puncture your lumbar spine and remove spinal fluid and inject dye into it and then you have to lay flat for hours after to prevent spinal fluid from leaking out.

Raise your hand if you think that sounds like a fun test!

My disks are compressing because of the radiation I received. If I need another surgery it is, according to my neurosurgeon, very complex and very long. So long his protege will do it and not him as he no longer has the stamina to do that sort of surgery. Kute Kristi was with me when that news was delivered and we both just sat there numb.

So from March until now I have basically been like a game of Jenga and we have been waiting for the tower to fall.

Knee replacement #1

Colitis all summer with joint pain (and having to miss my sistah wife's birthday)

Knee replacement #2

back issues with the compressed disk (so my legs sometimes just give out) so I use a walker unless I am at home...

I'm still in PT and I have lymph therapy 3 times a week

So where does the cancer fall into all this mess?

(and dear God I am impressed if you are still reading all of this...but I want to put it all here as a testimony to what happens with cancer treatments)

IF YOU HAVE SKIPPED THE REVIEW SESSION START READING HERE AGAIN

So on Monday Dec 20 I went for a routine CT to check my lymph nodes and abdomen for signs of cancer.

I wasn't worried but I popped an Ativan so that I wouldn't be such a wreck as to make my aunt nervous too.

I drank my special kool aid and waited, got my IV and fabulous Debby (who always does my CTs) put me on the table and I prayed.

The next day the report came up and it states that there is an increase in the size of the nodule on my adrenal gland and another nodule abutting my left kidney. This is in comparison to the CT I was given in July

where there is zero mention of anything on my adrenal gland

the report on July 13 states my adrenal glands as "normal"

what

the

actual

hell...

The explanation I was given is that different radiologists see different things so that may be why the first guy missed it...would have been nice to know that in July...

There is about zero chance of me getting a PET but the radiologist recommended it...my onco ordered a CA125 so we could see if there was an issue

Well folks...

THERE IS AN ISSUE

My CA125 was 14 in February

it is now 211

the highest it has been since my hysterectomy

So I'm in trouble...like big trouble

because a recurrence of UPSC is never good...not at all...

I've told my kids and family and some friends who need to know.

Last night my convo felt straight out of the movie "Terms of Endearment" because I had to say some very hard things to my kids...but they had to hear it.

My onco tried to call me but my call blocker stopped the call so I have to wait until Jan 3 most likely to know more. I have talked to my pharmacy doc and they are on it. They are trying to get everything lined up but I would still like a PET so we can have more answers.

But a CA125 of 211 is a pretty big answer.

I'm not in pain other than joint pain. I hate pain meds. I get off them quickly.

But right now I am on some anxiety meds and I think I will need an antidepressent this time because this is going to be hard work. My body is likely to react in weird ways (like the colitis).

I should have known something was up when I started losing more hair than I did when I was on chemo. And my energy level ebbed. And my swelling is worse.

I'm trying to find my unicorn power but honestly it is in the basement right now...might even be the sub-basement or perhaps the sub-basement of the sub-basement. It is there but it is low on energy and hiding...

maybe we should try to do like we do for Tinkerbell and all clap hard and say "I believe" (if nothing else I do live for applause)

I'm trying to be positive but unless you have had an actual recurrance of cancer you can't begin to understand how scary it is and what it entails.

I've endured surgeries and terrible infections that put me in the hospital and there are more to come.

I want to live

I want to have a next chapter in my life

I want to see my kids do awesome things as adults

I've lost my parents and I wish like hell they were here to tell me it will be ok...I miss them every single day and I do not want my kids to miss me every day like that until I am nice and old. Well at least old because by then I might not be so nice...

My dad and mom passed away at 59 and 60 years old respectively and here I am at 57.

I don't want my kids to know that pain of missing me until I'm hitting my 80's or so...which is 23 years at least from now so I'm good with that...

So what I need most from everyone is support and prayers...and maybe some chicken fried steak or take me to the hospital when I get sick.

Pedicures when omicrom is not raging sound good...

Valet parking...yeah I need that...

get me out of the house (again when omicrom is not raging)

spin rides and yoga flows

Meals when times are rough and I don't have the energy to cook...

But mostly just prayers and support...you can't imagine how powerful having someone say to you "what can I do to support you" is until you need it...or how beautiful it is to be told that you are in someone's prayers.

I have a lot of living to do and I plan to do it.

I plan to fight like hell again.

But honey I am tired...not gonna lie it's been brutal and nonstop for 5 years.

I honestly never trusted that I was truly cancer free...often I found myself saying I was still a cancer patient because I was so used to it.

I finally trained myself to say "cancer survivor" because there was no evidence of disease so I needed to move on...and I did..but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew things never turned out as I planned and that something was going to topple it all over.

Once again I feel like I am about to get on the tightrope.

When I was first diagnosed I told GOTTESS (my sister wife) that I felt like I had been dropped on a tiny ledge on a sheer faced cliff...

I can't go down or climb up because there is no foothold anywhere...there is only a tightrope that leads to somewhere I can't see.

I have no choice but to get on that damn tightrope again and start walking. I can't run or I will fall. I have to walk slowly and carefully and keep looking ahead. I can't look down or the fear will overtake me. I can't look up or I will lose my footing. So I have to walk. Slowly. Carefully. And stay on the tightrope and keep going because I know there is good on the other side. I just have to get there.

So I will take my overweight, swolllen, scarred like a roadmap, out of shape body with thinning hair and hardly any lashes and all my wrinkles and love this body.

It is not sexy or pretty

And all the cute little filters in the world can't change who I really am...they might look fun to post but it's not the real me...I can give myself doe eyes and lashes and a thinner face and no wrinkles on social media but when I see myself in the mirror it's not real it's just an illusion...I'm 57 and I know my skin is not like a baby's...and I know I have bags under my eyes and they are not the size of a Disney princess...I am exactly who I am...

and I can tell you I am all brave and shit and that I am gonna go into this pumped like it's the super bowl but there is no filter in the world that can cover up the fear and anxiety I have over this...

because that would be as fake as the filters I see on social media...

I can't make my cancer have big doe eyes and Barbie smooth skin to be pretty to fight...it's damn ugly....and what it does to me is damn ugly...

And yes I am a damn unicorn but I am also mad as hell that I have to go through this again...

I was so ready to get off Mr Toad's Wild Cancer Ride and just settle for riding Dumbo for a while but no now I have to go get on the Tower of Terror...(and if you do not know these Disney World references then I feel so sorry for you...)

I hate hate hate hate hate this damn cancer

and it is time it left me for good

I want a divorce from El Diablo and I want him to go away forever

But right now I am still chained to him so I have to figure out how to break the chain and get to the impossible place of No Evidence of Disease (NED) again.

Keytruda and Lenvima saved me before.

Not without a lot of trauma but it did work and my docs think it will again.

So I will return to the Cancer Center and I will once again sit in a chair in the infusion room and they will pour chemicals into me to fight the cancer.

And I will once again smile and laugh with my nurses and be grateful

And I will march forward toward health and hopefully at this time next year things will be managed.

And there is an excellent chance I will be in treatment for the rest of my (hopefully very long) life.

I'm not ready to throw in the towel...I'm picking it back up, wiping away the sweat and going back into the ring to fight once more.

Thanks for being on this awful journey with me...I'll know more soon...but for now I am grateful for prayers and support.

And thanks for reading this...I know it wasn't a fun one...it wasn't fun to write...

But if I am going to be filter free then you get it like it is...wrinkled and messed up...cancer is ugly...but I intend to beautifully fight it with strength and love and by loving myself...

Ok #TeamUnicorn---you know what to do: START PRAYING

Inspiration Song: "I Sing the Body Electric" from the movie "Fame"...a song I truly love...because I know my body is going to do amazing things...I sing this song often to remind myself that I can be strong and I can burn with the fire of ten million stars...

I sing the body electric
I celebrate the me yet to come
I toast to my own reunion
When I become one with the sun
And I'll look back on Venus
I'll look back on Mars
And I'll burn with the fire of ten million stars
And in time, and in time we will all be stars
I sing the body electric
I glory in the glow of rebirth
Creating my own tomorrow
When I shall embody the earth
And I'll serenade Venus
I'll serenade Mars
And I'll burn with the fire of ten million stars
And in time, and in time we will all be stars
We are the emperors now and we are the czars
And in time, and in time we will all be stars
I sing the body electric
I celebrate the me yet to come
I toast to my own reunion
When I become one with the sun
And I'll look back on Venus
I'll look back on Mars
And I'll burn with the fire of ten million stars
And in time, and in time we will all be stars
And in time, and in time we will all be stars

Bye Darlings...cancer sucks...that's all...

I Am Woman

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 10 Aug 2021 02:42:00 +0000

Before I start this blog I have a few "housekeeping" items to address. I know it's been a while since I blogged and I still have not fully expressed how it feels to be told "you are cancer free" and I have a whole lot of fun to share with you concerning ER visits, hospital stays and colonoscopies...but the other day I was struck with the "feels" and felt like sharing this instead. What I want to drop in here has to do with the term "woman". When I say "woman" I mean ALL women, not just those who's assigned gender at birth was "female" which goes to say that I also believe that trans women are "women". My blog: my opinion. I know many of you will not agree and what I ask of you is before you pass judgement if you do not know and have a relationship with a trans person it is very difficult to understand. I have trans people in my life that I deeply care about and love so for me the issue of trans is a non-issue. So I may say some things that sound odd like "born with female organs" and that is why...and, because I am human, I may say some things that don't directly represent the trans community because I write as a stream of consciousness.

Also there will be some very frank discussion here about body parts and things that happen when you are sick...this is not for the faint of heart...so if you clutch your pearls at the mention of diarrhea then you better skip this blog...because there is that and more...

My blog: my opinion

so to all the women out there---I salute you...ALL women...

Hello Darlings!

After being sick for most of the summer I am finally starting to feel like myself again. So a few days ago I felt good enough to get out and run a few errands: pick up a little lunch, go to the teller machine and pick up curbside groceries and carry them into my house and put them away...

As I was driving along I had my 70's radio station blaring and Helen Reddy's "I am Woman" came on and I, just as I did when I was a young girl, began singing along with the song.

I was driving and singing and then I realized I was crying...tears running down my face...

because that song has taken on new meaning to me over these last few years

In my youth it was an anthem of female empowerment and women's liberation...but the other day as I sang along I felt the lyrics in a new way and one that reflects how I feel having conquered cancer.

Recently I posted a quote that said "Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know" (Pema Chodron).

And that my friends is how I feel about my cancer...

it's like it was with me for so long because it had so much to teach me about myself...about relationships...about what is truly important...about trust...about health...about healing...about listening when I needed to listen and questioning when I needed clarity...about grace...

grace with myself and with others (and with my poor poor doctors and nurses)

It was a long period of time not knowing whether I was going to die...whether I would ever be free of El Diablo...whether I would see and enjoy a future.

Because I wasn't lucky enough to come out of the OR cancer free...yes the tumor invading all (and I mean ALL) of my female organs was gone but there was still cancer lurking in those pesky lymph nodes...

But I fought on because I had absolutely no choice.

No choice.

No. Choice.

NO

CHOICE

Because that's what happens when you are ill...you have no choice.

Oh yes I do realize that some people find that the treatments aren't worth the pain and loss and suffering and opt to rely on faith or just accept their fate and face the end of life with more grace than I could ever have but that was not me...

I wanted to fight

Because I know the second act of my life is around the corner (or maybe it's my third act? I'm not a playright so I'm not sure ok maybe we roll with third act if pre-cancer was one act and cancer was another and now post cancer...oh well I am getting lost in minutiae)

But I know I have more living to do.

So for all of you who think of me as a warrior, or brave, or whatever---if you were in my place you could and would do exactly as I did...you would find the best team of doctors for yourself and put your trust and faith in them and modern science and medicine. My fellow cancer warriors will agree.

I'm nothing special

I'm just a woman who got the hell jolted out of her when she was told "you have uterine cancer"...

I did what I had to do...

As the song lyrics say:

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman....

That right there my friends is what broke me...what sent the tears down my face and new comprehension washed over me...

The lessons I have learned were born of such tremendous physical and emotional pain I could never have comprehended when my journey started.

And the price...

Oh the price...

Let's start with the "easy" stuff because the biggest price, the loss of my body parts, is the hardest one of all and some of you, especially men, might think it was easy...but nooooo....

Let's add up my "bill":

3 spinal fusions because my spine was weakened by radiation

Now I have this colitis situation which they think was caused by the very drug that saved me...

colitis that completely robbed me of and ruined my summer and I had to miss some very special events because of it...

the colitis has caused me no end of loss of dignity...and I do mean loss of dignity...because at 2:30 am when you are too weak to clean yourself up after going to the bathroom (in a bedside toilet no less) because you are having to do a colonoscopy prep while you are very ill---yeah you give up dignity and you don't care who comes to help you at that point...and you cry...

I've had moments where I have had to reach for the adult diapers...not just with this colitis but because of things like radiation or medication...humiliating...

or times I have had "accidents"...once with my daughter present...

I have a hernia from my incision

I've gained so much weight because of lack of exercise from being sick and all the steroids that have been pushed into me trying to get me well and now joints aching with pain tied to the colitis so no exercise for me...just as I was proving I was a badass at physical therapy...

My knees are so much worse off than they should have been had I been able to have replacement surgery sooner

I will forever, and I do mean forever, have a left leg that is twice the size of my right leg thanks to lymphedema because of the cancer in my lymph nodes. It's not unnoticeable. My left thigh probably weighs a minimum of 5 more lbs just because of the fluid in my thigh. Fluid that will never go away. Fluid that I can push through and sort of get my lower leg under control but there is no good way for me to have compression on my thigh. And it shows. And it causes me to waddle as a walk and I might never wear pants again. A situation that will forever require me to be in compression every minute of every day except showering. A condition that will require that I use a compression pump every single day. Forever. It's not something that can be fixed, repaired, or reconstructed. I can't go in and have surgery and suddenly my lymph nodes will do their job and I'll have a normal leg again. It doesn't work like that. The bit of experimental surgery they do have is very risky and not very good and not covered by insurance so it's a total gamble.

I'm allergic to drugs now thanks to all the things that have been pumped into me...

And the one that is hard---I lost the very essence of feeling like a woman. I know women have hysterectomies every day but mine was a little deeper...a little more taken from me...things that are too private to discuss here but not only were my hormones wrecked but parts of me are gone that there is no repair for or reconstruction.

I'm being frank here...because a hysterectomy for cancer is a little different than one for other reasons. I'll just say " the cut is deeper" and leave it at that.

And all the cliches of menopause hit me at one time because I was not in full blown menopause when I was wheeled into that OR that day but I was when they wheeled me out...

And I could get more frank here and discuss that not having a partner also makes this difficult because honestly I don't know what I would be like romantically...I'll just drop that there and walk away and let you figure out the rest because it's too much and too transparent...

but I also don't want to shy away from the brutality this disease has caused.

(and God I live for the time when I don't feel the need to list all the things cancer has robbed of me...I'm sure y'all are tired of hearing it too...)

I've always found it ironic, and I have said so many times, that it was the organ in my body that gave me the greatest gift---my two kids---that tried to kill me.

I grew two full term humans in that uterus (and two angel babies).

I

Made

Humans

With

My

Body

Something I have never ceased to marvel at...I mean not only did I make these people but they are freaking marvelous

I never felt more like a "woman" than when I was pregnant...I mean I have always been a girly girl and I love pink and lipstick and heels and pretty dresses and being very feminine but being pregnant made me feel like I was connecting with my ancestors and all other women who had a human form inside their bodies...I felt like a woman at 28...

And it's also never lost on me that I have many dear friends who because of circumstance or health or their own body's issues were never able to experience the joy and incredibleness of having another human inside their body and I grieve for them. Infertility and miscarriage and stillbirth are painful and heartbreaking. For my friends who had their chance at having children robbed for them I feel a great loss if it had been their wish...and for my friends who became parents through adoption I feel great love that you were given the gift of a child to be yours...

All of this being said I don't equate being pregnant to womanhood but for me pregnancy was what made me most feel like a powerful strong woman---until cancer made me stronger (because I had a cancer that only someone born genetically female can get). Cancer made me more of a badass woman than anything else in my life...because I was fighting for me and all the women who cancer was robbing of our female organs...

Through the years I experienced many painful things: physically, emotionally, spiritually...

many...

but none more so (other than the loss of my parents and dear grandparents and my "extra parents") than the brutal pain and trials I have experienced these last 5 years.

Spring of 2016 I knew something was wrong with me...I knew it...I felt it...things weren't "right" and it wasn't just pre-menopause. I was off. And I told GOTT and he said he would support me as I went on the journey to find out. When your work hubby says something like that you feel blessed...

What followed was seeing my General Practitioner, my gyno (with a clear pap smear that 6 months later there was cancer in my cervix), a cardiologist, a endocrinologist and an ultrasound of my thyroid. Then the bleeding started...and all hell broke loose and if you have been reading this blog for a while you know what happened next...

"you might have cancer" became "you have uterine cancer"

and there my life did the biggest pivot thus far

(and please tell me as you read the word "pivot" that the Friends episode with the couch and the staircase made you say "pivot" in your head like David Schwimmer...)

I had to pivot...

or in my theatre terms: PLOT TWIST

because leading up to it I was just a divorcee getting one kid off to college while the other one was finishing up and I figured it was my time to shine.

It was my time to shine.

But not how I had planned...you know, because of the plot twist...

the PIVOT

I had thought I would find a boyfriend and enjoy being an adult in a relationship that didn't force me to alter everything about myself in some way.

And that's what happened...

minus the boyfriend part...

I had a relationship but the relationship was with cancer and once again I was having to alter everything about myself including my body after my beloved surgeon oncologist cut it all out

It was my time to learn all about myself and my relationship with ME and with others and with what was truly important in my life...

You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

And that was when I decided that I was going to beat cancer.

There was no other choice

I could sit around and wallow and worry and cry about it or I could put on my glitter and fight

So I fought...and trust me if you were faced with what I was faced with you would fight just as hard and as well too because YOU HAVE NO CHOICE

you can't wish cancer away...you have to fight it

So to all of you who so very kindly and sweetly say I am an inspiration and you admire how strong I am I want you to know that you have all of that inside yourself as well...just as strongly as I do...and I pray you never have to face it and do it.

I told Dr Rockstar that I was going to beat this unbeatable cancer. The one they can't cure but only keep you stable. The one that requires treatment all the time and no end. Because in 2016 that was my fate--I had the bad kind and only poison was going to keep me alive...poison from chemicals and from radiation.

I told her she was going to be able to say I am cancer free...I told her I knew I would hear those words from her...I told her she was going to be known as the doctor who beat UPSC

(and sadly I still haven't gotten to hear those words from her because she did a fellowship and left me in the more than capable hands of Dr Pretty so she got to say it...but this Friday I hear she is back and I have to go up for a port flush so I think I am gonna make her say the words...just because I need to hear them from her...)

I told her that she needed to keep me alive until science caught up with my disease and that is exactly what happened...I went from "you will need chemo for the rest of your life" to "immunotherapy saved me"...

I told her I was gonna beat it and get my knees fixed so I could live my life fully....and yes along the way some other things happened (see above) that will make it so I won't be quite able to do that but I'll be better than I was anyway...

Because you can bend but never break me...

and it only serves to make me more determined than ever

And you, yes YOU could do that do...but like I said I hope you never have to

Cancer really was a great teacher even if El Diablo was a total asshole about it...sometimes our best teachers are the ones we like the least.

I learned so much about myself---things that make me cringe--when I go back and read my old blogs about myself before the cancer and after my divorce and when I was all feeling myself thinking I was cute when I was thin and healthy...

I read those blogs and marvel at the ignorance about myself...me thinking that because I had lost over 100 lbs that I was really something special.

Nah...

my body taught me that to live like that I couldn't enjoy myself and I had to work too hard...and then my body proved it was in control by making it virtually impossible to try to lose weight

because when your body is secretly fighting cancer it really can't be bothered about losing fat in your big butt...

And now I am trying so hard to lose the weight I have gained...just trying to get myself to a place where when I look in the mirror I don't want to cry...

the problem is some of the fluff (thanks to lymphedema which also affects my trunk and pelvic area) will never go away...and now all the inflammation is bloating me so there's that so I mostly avoid the mirror and just know that I can only do what I can do to try and be healthy.

I mentioned to my GI doc that I was trying to lose weight and God bless her her response was "you have other things to worry about...we can deal with the weight later...let's get you feeling better'...yes my name for her is Dr Guts and Glory...she's good stuff...

I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my lovin' arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo
With a long long way to go
Until I make my brother understand

And now I am ready to find out where my journey takes me that is outside of just cancer stuff...yes I will forever have to deal with some of the side effects of what has been done to me but I'm about to be a real live Jamie Sommers and be The Bionic Woman once I get my other knee fixed (I wonder if I will be able to leap on top of buildings...probably not but at least I will be able to walk!).

I'm ready to put what I have learned into action...maybe in a book...maybe by doing some public speaking and sharing my story and how I grew from it...I'm not sure what that next step is but I'm ready to take it and raise awareness about cancer (especially uterine), cold capping, and how positivity and believing in yourself can conquer impossible things.

I still have a long way to go to fulfilling my life's promise...God gave me my life and now I need to use it for good things...for positivity...for change...for awareness...for whatever He sees fit to have me do because I feel like He didn't save me just for me to clam up and and selfishly live my life and just say "ok that's done...next..."

God made me a woman so I could experience all of this...so I could experience something that only someone who was gendered female at birth could experience. Not the giving birth part (that was special) but so that I could lose the organs that some would argue biologically make me a woman (although I believe trans women are also female even without those parts). I needed to lose that essence of what I felt was my womanhood so that I could bring awareness to a disease that I knew no one personally had had so that maybe it got a few of you to the gyno...or a mammogram...or the dreaded colonoscopy...

because if watching me suffer scared you even just a little bit then it was a good thing...because I want you scared enough that you listen to your body and that you have your checkups and testing.

I want you so scared that you fear that drop of blood you see on the toilet tissue and you get it checked out...

I want you terrified when you feel a lump

I want you frightened as hell when something feels off and you know your body is not behaving...

I want you scared so that you act on it and you face it and you walk into that mammogram or suffer that colonoscopy prep or go to the gyno after 5 years to make sure you don't end up like me.

I acted fast but my body did not give me the full signals fast enough

You need to listen to your body and be scared so you call that doctor's office...and then I want you to face that fear and know you can handle whatever is placed before you.

Because you can do it...I did and so can you...

I want people to know that they have the power to do what I did...and I know not everyone wins their battle against this horrible disease---I've lost friends to many forms of cancer---but I want to be sure that all of you know that I'm nothing special.

I'm just a woman who was told she had to fight.

And so I did...

Because I am strong...

I am invincible...

I am woman...

And now, to quote not only the marvelous Helen Reddy but also Katy Perry: YOU'RE GONNA HEAR ME ROAR...

Get ready...I'm gonna make a lot of noise...help me be loud...

Inspiration Song: "I am Woman" by Helen Reddy...because I've been down there on the floor and no one's ever gonna keep me down again...no one and no El Diablo...and by the way people she not only sang the song---she wrote the dang thing!!!

Here are all the full lyrics not chopped up...it's powerful when you read it...
I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an' pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again
Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul
Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my lovin' arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo
With a long long way to go
Until I make my brother understand
Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to I can face anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong
I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong
I am woman

Bye Darlings...let me hear you roar...let my beautiful women friends feel all the womanly things about themselves and share it...and I'm gonna roar a lot more now because I feel like I need to ROAR more and share more to glitter up this world...I am strong, I am invincible...I am WOMAN

Because You Loved Me

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 13 Apr 2021 18:07:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

It has been forever since I blogged...and I still owe you a blog about being cancer free and how that all feels but honestly I am still processing all of it...but I promise soon to let that all out...

But today---today is my no good terrible hard day...

Because 16 years ago I lost my mom

My best friend...

My travel companion...

My "nurse"...

My MOMMY...

I am forever blessed that her sister, my Aunt Jane (aka the best person in the world) stepped in and has taken on all of that in place of her.

Honestly I am so glad my mom didn't have to see me go through cancer.

It would have killed or...or been a disaster--not sure which.

She would have been full-on Shirley McClaine in "Terms of Endearment" with the nurses if I needed pain meds...there would have been pounding on the counter and yelling at the nurses and Debbie would have been a terror.

She would have been hovering over me after chemo treatments and would have driven my oncologists and neurosurgeon crazy with questions.

She would have been pained to see me in pain...

She would have been grieved to see me suffer

And, in her own inimitable way---she would have turned MY cancer into something about HER...and that is just fine...that was Debbie...

I miss my mom every day...every hour...every minute...every second...

I hate that she missed watching my kids grow and graduate high school and college.

She would have been so proud of what an amazing woman my daughter is and how incredible my son is. She would have loved being with them as adults and being thrilled by all they have done.

My mom was beautiful and fun to be around. She loved her friends. She loved church. She loved her family more than anything but God.

My mom had flaws.

We all do.

Sometimes those flaws were hard to handle.

But most of the time I looked beyond them and just saw the woman I loved most in this world. Just like she did with me.

My mom taught me to cook...and how to dress...and how to make a comfortable inviting home...and how to have fun at holidays...and how to love water and exercise...and how to love theatre...

I miss my Daddy too...just as much...but my mom and I were closer and most days I probably called her at least 3 times a day just to talk or run something by her.

When she died I had her phone and I would use it to call my cell so that I could hear the ringtone I gave her (Edna Mode from The Incredibles saying "Kisses Darling I am sending you kisses"). I did that so much my ex husband finally tookt he phone away from me.

I have things I find impossible to part with because they were her things. She would make me throw or give them away if she was here...

I was so overcome with grief when she died that I laid in my bed and did nothing but take my kids to school and pick them up.

I was costuming my first show and I had things to do and desperately needed to get back because I owed it to GOTT and the kids but I couldn't move.

Finally one day I dragged myself to the shower, threw on sweats and went to school. I had hoped to avoid the kids but ended up going into the Fine Arts Center and the entire 8th grade was in there with the champlain. One sweet child saw me and soon I was surrounded by all of them wanting to hug me and show me love.

It was an incredible moment and I realized that working with kids is healing to me.

And it is why I do what I do...those kids are healing...and along with my own children they are why I do what I do...

I could go on and on but usually on this day I just reprint the eulogy I wrote about her. And if you want to know a bit about how she introduced me to Musical Theatre you can read my blog "What I did for love". I can't read it because it makes me cry and cry...

A few years ago I wrote a blog about today and I re-read it before writing this one...it was about 5 or 6 years ago and I spent that day riding at my beloved Revolution. That was a magical day because Marvelous Mel let me cry it out on the bike. And it cemented my friendship with Sweet Sonia and Sweet Sandra. And Beautiful Britta brought me a cupcake that day that said "celebrate" and it really made me re-think how I spend this day.

I don't want to sit and cry all day anymore. I don't want to mourn her...I want to CELEBRATE her and be happy.

So I do.

And today I will.

And so now---if you want to join me in celebrating her---here is her eulogy which tells you all the ways you can honor my mom.

I can't exercise because I'm about to get my knee replaced but I am drinking water, eating something with butter, and spending my afternoon and evening at school with my beloved students.

Debbie Shelton was one of a kind...

I think she would be proud of me and of how I fought cancer and very proud of this eulogy...

Today we honor my mother, celebrate her life, mourn her death, and rejoice that she continues to grow in Christ. I gave some thought about what to say, and if I even could say anything---for those of you who know me know that I am seldom unemotional and easily give in to tears. But I will try my best today to do this for my mother because I know she would want me to. And heaven knows, I do love an audience, especially a captive one…and we have full house today…

When I was trying to decide what to say, what message to give, how to best honor her, so many thoughts and ideas came to me. I could speak about her past and give you a boring history of her life…not that her life was boring, but rather just me droning on and on about what she did. We have been to life celebrations like that and about the time that the speaker gets to the high school years of the deceased, we are often nodding off. I also thought about telling you just about what a great daughter, mother, grandmother, sister, and friend she was---but we all know that about her. You couldn’t speak to her without her mentioning her children, grandchildren, or family. Many of you know us and our children by name even if you have never seen our faces because she talked so much about us.

I thought about sending you all a message of peace, love, and our resurrection through Jesus Christ, but I think Father John had that covered and did it much more eloquently and elegantly than I ever could.

So, after some thought and prayer, and talking with my Aunt Jane, and a hope that I will be doing the right thing, I have decided to ask you all to do some things to honor her. I think it is the right thing to do, and I hope you all will do these things in her honor and memory---and it will please her greatly.

Not to steal any thunder from David Letterman, but I would now like to present to you the 10 things you can do to honor Debbie. I will borrow from his style and count backwards down to one, ending with the 2 things she would think are the most important.

Number 10---Cook with butter! My mother was a fabulous cook…she learned from her father who was also a great cook. She rarely produced a dish that wasn’t incredible tasting. She ate a healthy diet and enjoyed good food, but when she cooked, she cooked with butter. Most of our holiday meals centered on her delicious food and she didn’t skimp on the good stuff. So when you do anything in life, and not just when you cook…don’t skimp on the good stuff…make everything you do full fat, whole hog, and ignore the calories.

Number 9--- travel first class and see this world. It’s not always feasible to fly first class, but why not give up some of those frequent flyer points and get to your destination in a little more comfort? My mother always tried to do that…and she was always more comfortable for doing so. She loved to travel. She loved to go and see my brother Beto and his family in Africa----it’s a magnificent country and she loved to be there. She loved New York City---we traveled twice there with Camiel but she made many trips there and she never tired of the city. She took ordinary vacations to ordinary places but she also loved to travel to exotic and fun places like Hawaii, Bermuda, Egypt, and Europe. Even when she visited my sister Katie and her family in Fort Worth she turned it into a vacation. She loved to go places---whether she was traveling with her children or with friends. We took so many fabulous trips together and I know that I will miss having her as my favorite traveling companion. So get out there and see this world…and send my mother a postcard in a prayer.

Number 8---Sleep on a lot of soft pillows. My mother’s bed was a soft, safe haven for my children and my sibling’s children…all the grandchildren have slept in Nona’s great big bed, surrounded by all of her soft pillows. Sometimes our entire family would pile into her bed. My mother had guest rooms but my sister Susan would always sleep in her bed when she came to visit because Mom’s bed was the best. Everyone who was at her house at some point would find themself lounging about on my mother’s bed. My mother made bed-making into an art form. Her pillows were soft and plentiful and her sheets were luxurious. But translating that to real life, what she did was to create comfort around herself. We can all honor her by splurging on the creature comforts in our home and create that safe, soft haven that welcomes us.

Number 7---take more pictures. My mother took more photos than anyone I knew---she also managed to display them all. If you were at the funeral home yesterday you saw just a smidgen of the photos she had. And if you were there yesterday I sincerely hope you saw the marvelous video that my Aunt Gayle put together with some of Mom’s photos. She loved photos of friends and family and usually had her photos to the developer within hours of taking them. Take photos and share them with everyone. There is no greater artwork in this world than the human face.

Number 6---Keep a clean house. I have failed miserably at this…she was such a tidy house keeper and I am nothing but a mess…never dirty, just messy. Her home was ready for “Better Homes and Gardens” to come and photograph it at any moment. When her father died she took on keeping the house to help my grandmother out when she went back to work. I was told a story about her neat-nick ways that makes me laugh. Back in the early 60’s, when my mother and her siblings were young, my Uncle Phil was home relaxing. Suddenly my Uncle Steve ran through the house yelling “Run for your lives!” and raced out of the house. My Uncle John soon followed suit and jumped out the window. The next thing that Phil saw was my mother making a mad dash through the house and she forced Phil, along with Jane, Gayle and the others, out of the house. When my grandmother came home she found 5 of her 6 children waiting on the front porch, locked out of the house. It seems that my mother had done her cleaning and they weren’t allowed back in---no matter what. Her housekeeping skills continued on to her adult life. She had a maid that had absolutely nothing to do. She threw out her clutter and kept things so organized. Her closet is a work of art. She never had to worry that her house wasn’t tidy enough for anyone to drop on by. Speaking of which, that brings up:

Number 5----Throw more parties! My mother was the hostess with the mostest. Martha Stewart had nothing on her. She gave great parties. She was the social director for whatever community she lived in. When I was young I can remember sitting with my sisters and brother and watching all of my Mom and Dad’s friends come in to the parties they gave. They had fabulous parties…costume parties, hunting parties, dancing parties, teas, casino parties, bridge parties and benefit parties. They entertained heads of state and heads of the school. We loved to watch her get dressed for a party and always were amazed that she could look so beautiful each and every time. Our home was the gathering place for the web of friends that she had in Kingsville. I remember Sunday afternoons spent with our family friends coming by---the kids stayed in the pool until we were long past the prune stage, the dads would stand around and drink beer until it was time to watch Peyton cook the burgers, and the moms would lay in their chairs sunning themselves while wearing curlers in the hair covered by a silly cap or bandana. Why those women lounged in the sun in hair curlers is beyond me, but I can still see that group of people at my house as if it was yesterday. She could even turn a hairdressing adventure into a party. In the early 70’s I remember her friends showing up, armed with home “frost your hair” kits, Lancer’s Rose wine, and cigarettes for those who smoked. The would seat themselves around my mother’s long vanity area and pull each other’s hair through the frosting caps…all the while yakking and drinking wine. As the evening wore on my sister Noel and I became hot commodities because we could pull the hair through the caps for them when they got a little too tipsy to do it right. They would emerge a few hours later, full of wine, full of fun, with head’s full of frosted hair---they all looked a little like Bea Arthur in her “Maude” days…and my mother was their queen. Those were some of the greatest times of my life, and I think my siblings will agree. Most of the best times were never a planned thing…it was just that everyone knew that our family and my mother would welcome everyone and no one had to put much thought to it. Have a party---we are, because she would want us to!

Number 4----Support education. It was so important to my mother that we got an education. I know the day my sister Sarita graduated was one of the proudest days of her life. My graduation from A&M was a triumph for both of us because she never went to college. Her siblings went to various universities and she was proud of their accomplishments. She tried to give us the best education possible. While in Kingsville she sent us to an amazing Episcopal school. When the time came to educate my own children I feel so blessed that I too found an amazing Episcopal school for my children. I use what she did for us as a blueprint for how to raise my own children and I was pleased that I can give such a wonderful educational gift to them. My mother loved going to St. Francis and seeing her grandchildren perform, or attending grandparent day, or even just picking them up in the carpool line. She so believed in the school that she participated in the school’s capital campaign and regularly gave to the Annual Giving program. But her dedication to good education didn’t stop with her grandchildren’s school----she gave scholarships to A&M, helped build on to our school when we were children, and she helped out with various projects at Texas A&I when she lived in Kingsville. So give to the school of your choice and support it well, she would really like that.

Number 3--- Drink more water and exercise more. Was there ever a time that we didn’t see her drinking water? She never ordered anything in a restaurant but water. She was a connoisseur of water and she drank it by the gallon. She always had a bottle of water and kept several pitchers of it in her fridge. It’s good for you and won’t interrupt your sleep…so toast her with your next glass and drink it more often. And get out there and work out! My mother loved to exercise…she was in amazing shape and she worked hard at it. She loved to walk with her friends in the morning and she also loved going to the Houstonian to work out. She enjoyed trying all kinds of classes but usually stuck to her walks with friends when the weather was nice. I know that she managed to get many of you out of the house to walk with her and I only wish she had made me do so more often with her---then I might fit into more of her gorgeous clothes! Take care of your health---she would want you to.

Number 2---Go to church. My mother loved coming to St. Michael’s. She loved this church and she loved the Catholic Church. She often walked to mass from her house so that she could exercise both her body and her spirit. She loved her faith and she clung to it. She loved Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and God. She prayed for all of us…so let us all remember her in our prayers and thank God for her life because He did such good work when he created her.

Number 1---love your family, spoil your children, but ridiculously spoil your grandchildren. My mother was the most beautiful and wonderful mother a person could have. She did the best she could after the divorce and I think we all turned out pretty well. But where she really shined was in the “grandmother department’. Nona, as the grandkids call her, was the best grandmother a child could have. She spoiled them rotten and loved them with the fiercest of loves. She taught them so many things and she could spend hours listing their virtues to anyone who would listen. She was devoted to her mother and she loved her brothers and sisters so very much. She was the oldest child and was their second mother since some of them are much younger than she was. Her family, children, siblings, and mother and grandchildren were the light in her life…and she was such a strong light in ours. We will all be a little dimmer without her to shine on.

In closing I want to finish with a story of how all of this got put into perspective for me. Over the last few days I have been told so many things and been given much sympathy and advice. But the true meaning of how I, and those of us who loved her, are to carry on were best expressed by Connally Dull. Connally is the sweet 3 year old daughter of my good friends Christy and John Dull. I left the Dulls, Connally, and her 2 sisters at my house to go and sign the papers to release my mother’s body to the funeral home. The Dulls said they would stay to answer the phone and the door while George and I were gone. When I stepped back into the house I began to cry once again. Connally looked up at me with her beautiful big eyes and opened her sweet mouth and said “Why you crying? Your mommy in HEAVEN!” I couldn’t have said it better myself…Sometimes it takes a child to put things in perspective.

Inspiration Song: "Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion...because she loved me I learned so much...

Bye Darlings...if your mother is still living do me a favor and call her and tell her you love her...I would do anything to be able to do that...

Mommy I love you...

Cold as Ice

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 03 Mar 2021 01:23:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

I really wish I was updating you on my fight with El Diablo and all that had transpired (surgery! frozen shoulder! another infection!) but that can wait...two weeks ago we had a weather situation (putting it mildly) here in Texas and I have FEELINGS about all of this...and I know my fellow Texans do too...

So the week leading up to the ice/snow/apocolyptic storm we were warned we were getting a major weather event and we needed to prepare...

And we all thought "ok, we handle hurricanes---so we can handle this!"

(sigh)

And many of us were hoping for snow and all the cute Insta ready moments it would provide:

cute pics of our houses in the snow
kids in snow
snowmen we build
looking cute in our cold weather gear

And we could post all those photos and admire each others snow pics...

WRONG

There was nothing cute about the Snowpocolypse.

Or should I call it Snowvid?

Or maybe "all of winter in one week"?

We were told to expect "rolling blackouts" throughout the night on Sunday night/early Monday morning.

okayyyy

yeah we got that...we can handle an hour off of power...no biggie...

We were told to shut off water lines (I am physically unable to do that so I had to hope for the best)

We were told to wrap pipes (I did that with some help from my daughter's partner---they were a big help as I am not the "handiest" of girls nor do I get around well enough with my bad knee making me unstable so things like kneeling down are impossible).

We were told to fill up bathtubs for flushing toilets (I forgot)

We were told to stock up on groceries as roads would be impassable---so many of us filled our fridges with food and set about to making warm comfort food that would get us through the cold snap.

I had planned meals and had what I needed on hand to keep myself fed.

On Saturday I was blessed to be able to receive the COVID vaccine but the day was an ordeal and my plan to come home and wash my hair went by the wayside...

Sunday came and I figured "I'll just wash my hair tomorrow when I am bored at home"...

Big mistake

huge

yeah...so by Sunday it was a shameful amount of days since I washed my hair...I do not know how people used to go so long without washing their hair but I am getting an idea. I only wash my hair once or twice a week becaue it is so delicate since my first chemo and my hair adjusted.

My hair is NOT adjusted to how long it was since it was washed. Suffice it to say that by the time I got to wash it (and myself) it had been a very very long time...

Not cute...

thank you snowpocolypse!

So Sunday night I made myself a Valentine's supper (because I love ME!) of a steak and some asparagus and a salad and took a hot shower (sans washing hair because it was cold) and went to bed. (and I won't even go into how depressing it is to once again be alone on Valentines Day YET AGAIN for the 10th year but honestly longer than that because my marriage was a big dud for years before)

I had dripped my faucets, opened the cabinets, set the air down to 67 to not stress the grid, turned off all my lights and went to bed and prayed for the best.

My anxiety was running high knowing what was to come so I gathered the cats in bed with me and settled down to watch some mindless tv.

(BTW if you are a child of the 70's there are now some channels that show old 70's shows like Charlie's Angels, Little House on the Prairie, and Hart to Hart...very easy to relax to)

I finally felt sleepy about 1:30 so I turned on my Calm app and was listening to a calming bedtime story like I usually do after some deep breathing and was prepared to sleep through the night no matter what was ahead.

CRASH

And I do mean a big huge loud scary thunder crash that I am sure many of you heard.

I learned later it was called ThunderSnow or is it Snow Thunder?

In any case it scared the daylights out of me and little Angel (my sweet little old kitty) and she sat upright and shook with fear.

Then the hail started...

it was beating down on the roof and the house and making quit a racket...

Needless to say my peaceful going to bed was no longer an option.

The power had flashed off and I thought :and so it begins...

I looked outside at the falling hail (it was bigger than a good sized pea) and thought that maybe the rolling blackouts had started. Or worse...a damaged power line.

I jumped on Facebook to see that the whole neighborhood had gone dark so it wasn't just me...

I also learned others had lost power then around the city as well. One friend lost hers 15 minutes before me so I was feeling relieved thinking it was probably a controlled outtage.

Wide awake at that point I watched Facebook for comments to see what was happening to others and when my friend who was 15 minutes ahead of me got power back after an hour and 15 minutes so I expected that mine would return 15 minutes later or so.

WRONG

3:00 am came and went

3:30 am came and went

Finally at 4:00 am I passed out exhausted and more than a little scared.

When I woke up there was all that cute white snow I had wished for and the power had been out for 6 hours and my house was a toasty 45 degrees.

No I didn't take pics for Instagram...

And I didn't have cell service...or rather I did but it was very very spotty...sending a text could take minutes or not at all.

I bundled up and wrapped the cats in blankets and shivered.

I thought about all my friends and loved ones who were doing the same.

And I was super grateful for the warm fuzzy robe I was wearing that is a constant reminder of yet another battle I once had with the ex who thought it was a frivilous use of money when we were once on vacay. I am grateful I didn't listen to him when I bought it.

I tried to figure out how to turn on the fireplace as I had never used it.

no...not once in 8 years...you would think...but no...

And I had shelves built since I moved in and looked in vain for a pic of the space before so I could see where the little "hole you put the key in" would go but in my panic and distress I failed to see the "before" pics.

I pushed a few things around in the cabinet but the room was somewhat dark from no power and the inside of the cabinet is a dark almost black color of grey.

So I, as one of my former student's would say---"Guy looked".

(Guy looking: looking for an object and then when not found after a 10 second scan you yell for wife/partner/girlfriend/mom/dad/husband/brother/sister/the dog/anyone more responsible than you to come help you find what you are looking for. Which 9 times out of 10 is right where it should be. Former student who taught me this term would lose costume pieces and me or my girls would find it in 10 seconds...he would "guy look" and we would "mom look"...btw Guy Looking is not just exclusive to males...)

I texted the former owner (sweetest guy ever) who said it should have a key but at that point my panic was climbing higher as I got colder.

And then realized that even if I located the place to turn it on I probably shouldn't use it anyway since it had been so long...even though it was just gas logs...

but I knew having a fire might make the difference between being able to withstand my house and not and had I taken a klonopin and settled I might have found it.

Because it is right there in the cabinet.

As it should be...

But I digress...

I thought about going out to my car and warming the cats and I up in there but I had parked my car in such a way that I could not get to the handle to pull to unlock it so I could manually lift it.

So I sat down to cry and prayed my tears would not freeze like they did when I last snow skied...

And then I went to lay down and eyed my klonopin again and should have popped one for my anxiety but I decided to power through by reading Bridgerton and thinking about how handsome Rege-Jean Page was in the Netflix series as I read the exploits of The Duke and Daphne.

I fell asleep (because I had very little the night before) and dozed about 20 minutes and woke up to the phone ringing...

It was KuteKelly

And she was having none of it with me stranded in a cold house and she had power.

She wouldn't take no for an answer and she informed me she would be there in 20 minutes and to be ready. And yes the cats could come.

So she got to Casa Frio (usually Casa Bonita but #freezing) and loaded up me, my bag, my pillow, my walker, my cats, a litter box and my lymphedema pump and off we went to her beautiful WARM home.

We settled me---got some side eye from the kitties---and headed down to her den to catch the news and see what was going on.

She made us a lovely early supper of salad and turkey burgers and we were grateful for food in bellies and warmth and lights and the wine or cocktails we were planning to make.

And then we were plunged into darkness.

Yup...less than 2 hours after I arrived the power went out.

We thought "rolling blackout" and knew my power was still out but chalked it up to something wrong with the service line (like ice).

We moved into her living room and sat by the fire and she dispensed with cocktail making (she makes an incredible vodka/peachy/cranberry thing that is pretty much witchcraft), gathered the dogs, lit candles (and by "we" I mean her and I sat like a lump on the couch petting a dog) and watched "Black Panther" (and cried...AGAIN) and laughed and passed the time.

It became apparent that the power wasn't returning so she took me upstairs and grabbed another blanket and a flashlight and got me settled.

I was so exhausted by the day's events that even as cold as it was (maybe in the 40's?) I went to sleep.

And slept hard...and thankfully did not need to get up as it was freezing.

The cats, who usually hate to be under covers, burrowed themselves into the bed as close to me as they could). They were cold and confused...but mama was near.

I woke up Tuesday to Kelly making us coffee in her french press (she has a gas stove) and her hubby offering to make us some eggs...yes please!

We heard from my neighbor that our street got power back at midnight so we (I mean they...because stairs are hard for me) loaded up the kitties, the litterbox, my suitcase, my pillow, my blanket and my lymphedema pump and walker and we headed back to my house.

The power was OFF

AGAIN

It had lasted 12 hours (yay my food was saved!)

The house had heated up to a perfectly toasty 61.

I told them to leave me and I would be fine...

and I was...

cold but fine (they didn't get power back either)

so I lit every candle I own and found my battery operated ones and sat bundled in my chair drinking hot broth because I didn't want to open the fridge.

Fun fact: my house smelled like the Yankee Candle section of a Cracker Barrel (btw I love me some Cracker Barrel). It is possible to have TOO many scented candles going (thank you $9.99 annual 3 wick candle sale at Bath and Body Works).

Once I had the candle situation under control I set about to make sure I had water for flushing toilets because it was a tiny trickle.

My neighbor across the street gave me a large bucket of pool water and brought it to my door...and I went outside with my big stock pot and scraped snow into it and melted the snow (I have a gas stove) so I could flush the toilet.

I passed the time playing games on my phone and being grateful I had charged my brick charger so I could recharge because I was on my way to becoming a Spider Solitaire master and Flood It was not proving to be a big challenge...and yes it is possible to play too much solitaire...and Dragon was unimpressed with my wins...

The temp in the house plunged down to 51 (not bad compared to other friends) and Angel (the little old kitty) wandered off inside the house and found a warm (relatively speaking) hiding spot and refused to budge.

Dragon and I spent another night huddled under the covers.

KuteKelly called the next morning to inform me that her power had just come back on and invited me to come and be warm. I told her I would just stay for the day as I had not located Angel and didn't want to do a repeat of me and half my house having to go to hers...

I knew I had to get my food out of the fridge so I grabbed it and put it outside since it was colder than a fridge out there. Luckily my butter was still very hard so I caught it in time.

I spent the day being warm next to her fire and her hubby heating up the delicious veggie soup she had made and being so grateful I had a friend who was so kind. They had water issues with the house so we did the "flush the commode with pool water" trick.

I learned that trick in 1989 when we had a freeze here in Houston and all the pipes were frozen.

That time I had insisted on getting a bath. We had power but water was a tiny trickle. So I heated up pool water on the stove to a boil and carried it up and down the stairs (funny how I can't do that now and it saddens me that I can barely carry a cell phone upstairs since I must hold onto railings). I made myself a hot bath and the ex invited himself to it so before he could get in I poured an unseemly amount of Coco Chanel bath foam into the bath to keep him from invading the bath he had poked fun of and I had worked hard to get.

(Still in the freeze of 1989) I bathed and we went to my mom's house where she had a guest who showed me how to take the powder room trash can and fill it with pool water and dump it into the toilet bowl.

Well color me impressed...I didn't realize that is how a toilet worked.

BTW the man who taught me that trick was none other than Dr Red Duke (his wife at the time was a friend of my moms) and it was reason #453 that he charmed me (along with that Aggie ring he proudly wore that was worn out from all his scrubbing)...Trauma surgeons know all the tricks...

But I digress...

KuteKelly and The Hubby even made it to the store to get flats of water for them and for me (so grateful for that) and we settled in to watch The Blind Side and have a little snack of cheese and nuts and some wine.

Right as we were drying our tears from Blind Side...THE POWER WENT OUT.

They dropped me at home (by my insistance) and headed to a friend who lived further out of town that had power and water pressure for showers and laundry (and the power went out 5 minutes after the arrived so there's that).

As we drove through my neighborhood the only lights were the gas lamps...it looked eery...

But less than 2 minutes after we arrived THE POWER CAME BACK ON.

They left to head to a shower and I waited for the power to go out again...

It stayed on an hour...

It stayed on another hour...

I finally felt safe enough to put the food in the fridge and to cook a bit of dinner.

The power made it until 10 and I felt like maybe I was out of the woods.

I boiled water to soak the dishes and headed to my bedroom.

Another "wipes" bath and I finally got to use my lymphedema pump for the first night in 3 days.

I was finally starting to relax and was most of the way through using the pump and...

DARKNESS AGAIN

Darn...I was in the middle of my Real Housewives of Salt Lake City reunion...

I turned on the battery operated candles, got out of the pump, wrapped my legs in my bandages (yes, this is EVERY SINGLE NIGHT OF MY LIFE) and got ready to knuckle down for another cold night---grateful that my fridge was once again down to the proper temp.

I played Solitiare again hoping to get sleepy and checked the neighborhood Facebook page and saw a few people got their power back and...

MIRACLE

IT CAME BACK ON

Oh thank you God, the Son and the Holy Spirit for loving me...and my neighbors and friends...

because we all know ERCOT does not!

I had a fitful sleep because I had PTSD that the power was going to go off again so I left my celing fan on to know if it went off. We were told to use as little power as possible so I had been conserving all evening since it came back on.

I woke up the next morning to the house being a fine and toasty 66 and this time Angel decided she better sleep warmly next to mom.

The power has remained on since

And I am tired of resetting the clocks on my appliances...

I made it through the storm with much less loss and problems than others.

My house never got below 45

I was always able to eat

I had 3 very cold nights but plenty of blankets

I had a friend who shared her home with me

I always had water even if it was a trickle

I did not have any pipe issues

I had friends who were out of power from Sunday night until Thursday and the didn't even get small chunks of time with power being back on...I at least had 12 hours in the middle of it

Friends who have whole rooms in their houses having to be torn out (and one who had to move)

Friends who did not have water and some still don't

landscaping lost pretty much all over the city

and we all now shudder at the thought of snow

I learned a lot those few days and not just that I prefer to be hot over being cold.

I learned that friends who will not take no for an answer are the best kinds of friends to have

I learned that once again this city is so much more resilient than the rest of the country thinks we are...this also goes for the state of Texasa

I learned that going with the flow when given no choice is the only choice

I learned that I need to have my fireplace inspected and make sure it is working before next winter

I learned that I have more candles than any woman needs but I am grateful for them

I learned that a cocktail when you are cold is a warming thing

I learned that a friend that says "you can bring the cats" is a friend indeed

I learned that I can do hard things alone but it is better when you have a someone...especially if that someone is a friend

I learned that I am a damn good solitaire player

I learned that I should have taken some anxiety meds

I learned that my anxiety is really fueled by stress

I learned that as much as a worried for myself that I can't stop being a mom and worried more about my kids and family

I learned that I am really happy I have a cell phone charging brick

I learned I can't read when I am stressed

I learned that a hot shower is truly a blessing

I learned that putting off hair washing day is not a good idea

I learned that the sound of a toilet tank filling is a soothing sound

I learned that I really really appreciate my dishwasher

I learned that putting food outside when the power is out is a good idea (thank you Marvelous Martha for that suggestion)

I learned that I can be my own company when I have a tv but notsomuch when there is no power or internet

I learned that I need to park my car in a better placement in the garage before the next storm in case of power outage so I can open my garage door

I learned that I have amazing friends who all love and check in on each other

I learned that being challenged with mobility makes things like this much harder

I learned I want my knee fixed more than ever

I learned that I need to get some hose bib covers for next winter

I learned that my old lymphedema bandages can be a pipe cover and plan to do that next time

I learned that we need to demand better from the powers that are supposed to take care of us as a community (I am looking hard at you here ERCOT)

I learned I could do things I did not think I could do...but then again I have been doing that for 10 (and most especially the last 4) years now

I know I am most certainly not the only person who went through hell...all of us did. I know that many many many more people had it so much worse than I did.

But I am proud of how we all came through it

And doing hard things is just something I have had to get used to

And next time it snows...I'm going somewhere else!

Inspiration Song: "Cold as Ice" by Foreigner...because I hate being cold as ice...and I don't think I will ever be excited for snow again..seriously

Bye Darlings...I hope you came through the storm ok...so many of you had it much much worse than me...and I just wanted to share a glimmer of what some of us went through for those who don't understand how Texas got crippled...I know places that get snow all the time don't understand why we were in such distress but we know we were unprepared for what we were put through...

Fever

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 12 Oct 2020 01:47:00 +0000

This blog will finally explain why I had to be in the hospital and what is this crazy thing with my wound that won't heal...and why I need another surgery...and all the other medical mess I have been wading through since July...it's a long one so it might be good bedtime reading...

Hello Darlings...

it's been a while...

We are still in the middle of a global pandemic, an election year and fighting for racial justice and equality...I'm not well versed enough on these things to discuss them here and that is not what you come here for...

no you come here to find out what El Diablo has been up to and what life with cancer is about...just about as much "no fun" as politics!

So I finally got to have a little summer vacation...

IN THE HOSPITAL...

6 days worth of vacation.

I don't recommend it...

the food is terrible and being attached to an iv pole is certainly no fun...

there are no fun activities and sunsets are blocked by all the medical buildings...

there is no bar and no pina coladas...

no pool to lounge by or have cute cabana boys bring you umbrella drinks...(but the nurses are adorable)

no beautiful room with a view and a fabulous bathroom with a tv to watch while in the tub...

you can't even wander outside your room because of COVID...

but the nurses were truly amazing and wonderful.

But honestly I would have far preferred a trip to the lake or the beach or Kauai...

I woke up one morning feeling just awful...had my coffee and ended up napping. Felt worse after my nap and suspected I had a fever...the cat suspected too because she was all over me.

I went to my bedroom to take my temp and given that I managed to buy a thermometer that only reads celsius it made it a little tricky.

(I'm sure there is a way to make the thermometer read Farenheight but it has escaped me and it came with no instructions)

So after a little conversion via my phone I found out I had a fever of 101...woo hoo that was gonna earn me a trip to the ER (because when you are a cancer patient you can't get fevers like that). Do not pass "Go". Do not collect $200. Go straight to that space on the board marked "hospital".

I called my doctor and she said to come in...when I told her my temp was climbing and I had some shortness of breath she said "go to the ER...the doctor will have alerted them by the time you get there".

Called my daughter, took a shower and washed my hair (because God knows when that was gonna happen again once I had my port accessed and meds going in), packed a bag (I knew there was no way I wasn't going to be admitted because this is about my 5th rodeo with this and not my first), threw on my favorite dress of the moment (a bright turquoise Mexican dress given to me by sweet Nurse Jamy), and off we headed to the hospital.

She had to just drop me off...

no going in with me...

so I got "screened" (by then fever had risen to 102.5) and was sent to the desk so I could tell the man there that I needed to be seen and needed a COVID test.

Out comes a nurse who pretty much assumes by my garb that I am just some desperate housewife looking for a rapid COVID test.

I explain that my doctor had called ahead and wanted me to be seen but it fell on deaf ears. I was delirious with a climbing fever so I'm not sure I explained it right but in any case I was told where I could go get a test...

pppfffffffttttt....

I went back outside and sat on a bench and texted my doc where I was and what was up...

She sends back a message that they are sending a resident for me.

So I sit patiently on the bench and out comes the triage nurse and a man who appears to be a resident about 10 minutes later. They go around asking everyone BUT ME if they are me...I wave...not noticed...

I'm a pretty big turquoise blob so I am still not sure how they missed me...but there I was...with a big pink suitcase, a walker, a big pink purse and a big turquoise me...

Doc calls and says they are looking for me and I tell her I am outside on the bench and I am pretty sure they just looked over me...I go back in and the screener says "Baby they are looking for you" and back to the guy at the desk who is suddenly flustered (seems my doc went a little nuts with the department for leaving a woman with a 102.5 fever and cancer to sit in the valet area).

Stickers are printed...like he literally had the stickers (with my name and codes) right there...

now in medical world when you have a STICKER you are being seen...no maybes...you are getting attention.

Nurse finds me and apologizes profusely and so does resident...by then my fever is 103.5

needless to say I am taken right back

The ER at the hospital is a new space...and it was FULL of people...some even in beds in the hallway.

As I am a suspected COVID case I'm put in a room with another person separated by a screen.

I am masked the whole time.

So now they have to figure out why I am sick...maybe COVID or maybe the wound on my stomach.

I'll back track a bit because this might be the weirdest way I have ever gotten a wound.

Back in July a few days after my last Keytruda infusion I went over to GOTT and GOTTESS's house to pick up mail and use their pool while they were out of town. I was sitting outside reading a book when I felt an intense burning on my stomach. It felt like a laser beaming down to this one particular area on my belly where 8 months previously I had injected myself with blood thinners. The area was fully covered by a black bathing suit. When the burning became too intense I jumped into the water. A few hours later when I got home I could see it had blistered and popped. It was red but not awful but 5 days later it had turned into a wound despite my cleaning and care and application of triple antibiotic. It looks like a second degree burn. The cancer chemo pills I am on impedes healing so that was not helping at all. Prior to my visit to the ER my oncologist saw the wound and stopped all chemo meds and did a biopsy and had me treating it with topical antibiotics. So we knew I had a wound...we just didn't know what it was doing to me...

So back to me in the ER...

I'm laying there and they are poking me with multiple iv's and heart monitors and ultrasounds and x rays and no one can figure out what is wrong with me---except thankfully my COVID test was negative.

I do not do well with needle sticks. My veins are delicate and blow very easily. I have an iv in my ONE GOOD VEIN in my arm and one that is super painful in my hand (which I cry when she sticks me but she had no choice...I had to have 2 iv's and they can't access a port in the ER).

My temp stays at 103.5 and I'm on fluids but able to get up and walk to the restroom myself.

ER doc is not sure what to make of the wound and how I got it so he takes a culture (earlier that week I had a biopsy on it as well). He's doing his best to get me stable so I can go upstairs.

Everyone who asks how I got the wound is flabbergasted.

Yes I just used the word 'flabbergasted"...it's the only way to describe it...

At some point while I'm fever delirious (and with the chills) they bring in a very sick man and put him on the other side of me.

What transpired was over an hour of about 8 people working on the man. What amazed me was how extremely calm they all were. One guy seemed in danger of getting a little antsy about it and I noticed the doc that was running things let him go "find something" as a way to get him to chill out.

I have no clue what was wrong (nor was it my business) but I did know they were saving his life and that he was very ill. But the calm that presided over his care was impressive---nothing like Dr Green getting really excited and yelling at Susan in an episode of "ER".

At some point I had been there about 5 hours and I hadn't eaten for 24 so my nurse made sure I got a meal delivered to me on a tray. No clue what I ate. I just felt bad eating with the guy in the bed next to me possibly dying. But my nurse said I needed to get something in me.

They were running an antibiotic in me that turns me red so I looked like I had spent a week in Cabo without any sunscreen and was burning up and chilled at the same time. My hair which was never fully dried was piled on my head with a scrunchie and it was a rat's nest from not being brushed but rather hastily thrown up on top of my head so that it could be out of the way for medicall stuff. Yeah no photos of me looking dreamily (and filtered) laying in bed being attended to...

A new nurse took over and she was also awesome...she kept checking in with me and telling me she would get me upstairs as soon as the patient next to me was stable and that the room and nurse upstairs were ready for me.

I also had a tray sitting on my lap for an hour and half and she was horrified to realize she left me like that...I was so out of it I didn't really notice.

We get me upstairs and I am put into what amounts to the tiniest room in the hospital...last time I had the Princess suite so I'm gonna call this the Pauper's room. I actually preferred the smaller room since I couldn't have visitors and it meant it was small enough I could pretty much get all around the room without unplugging my iv pump...

it's the little things people...and in this case I mean little...

My awesome nurse gets me set for bed and drugs me up and tries to control my fever.

I'm fevering so bad I have the febrile shakes and am literally shaking all over---that's when I know it's a bad fever.

I get feverish sleep that night and as usual just about the time I am sleeping it's time for meds, vitals, or labs or I need to pee from all the fluids they are pushing in me...and I am drinking as much water as I can to flush all of this out of me...

I'm still itching and red from the vancomycin so that makes it all extra fun.

The next morning I can finally get my port accessed and my arms are free of the iv's that are hurting and I have more freedom but still fever...it goes down to 100 but then pops up again.

Docs still can't figure out what the heck is going on and I'm being pumped full of antibiotics and Tylenol.

Shall we discuss hospital food?

On second thought....no....

I just order whatever I think I can choke down which is not much while I am very sick.

Being that sick you don't much care for what you are given to eat...but I do remember enjoying some ice cream and I don't recommend ordering fish in a hospital...and I think grilled cheese was a safe choice one day...

You have to order by 7 pm or you won't get dinner...so most nights they call if you forget to call in your order. I wish they let me order for the day but this isn't regular room service and I am glad to have them remind me to order (most days).

All my food is delivered in paper boxes and with plastic ware. It's not terribly warm but again I'm not there to eat...I am grateful when they decided I was no longer an incubus of the viral plague and started bringing my meals on a real plate under a plate cover and with real forks and knives.

I spend the next 3 days shaking, peeing (from all the fluids), and watching tv that I have no clue what I am really watching...

I do recall Golden Girls and Frasier in the wee hours of the morning when I could not sleep.

I'm extremely grateful they took QVC off the chanel lineup so that I don't end up ordering things while drugged up...again...

Once when I was on morphine in the hospital I managed to order a few things with the handy app on my phone as I watched QVC. Days later when I am finally home boxes appeared. In my drugged up state I had ordered a primer, an eye shadow pallette and a dress.

Thank goodness I liked all of them...

But this time I was not on morphine but delirious so it was good that there was no QVC...heaven only knows what might have appeared on my doorstep...

Doctors on my team rotate in and out...they are doing the best they can.

Dr. Rockstar comes to see me and she is full of her usual sparkle and love. Dr. Sweetmeds also comes by and I cry because she is always so incredibly thoughtful and kind.

They tell me that apparently the infection I have is a GOOD sign about how the chemo drugs are working in me and so despite the fact that I am stuck in the hospital it is not a terrible thing.

So weird to have an infection of unknown origin be a good thing but at this point I will take whatever good news I can get.

And I am relieved it's not shingles because at one point they thought I had it...

But then they tell me that I am overloaded with antibiotics (I think my red skin and itching all over might have given them a clue) and that now I am apparently a walking yeast infection since the antibiotics have killed all the good flora in me.

Oh and I have staph in the wound---but it's the good kind?

I stop asking questions and just focus on getting fever free so I can get sprung.

And I call myself a walking bagel when I text Aunt Jane the latest...I'm just one huge round thing of yeast...super fun...or maybe I should have called myself a mushroom since I'm a fungus? In either case it's not good...

I'm super blessed to have amazing nurses each day and I even get to see my beloved Adam and Mimi...I honestly would check into the hospital just to be under their care.

I have to wear a mask whenever someone is in the room but otherwise I don't have to which is a relief.

On Saturday night I am reunited with one of my favorite nurses: Lorena.

She was fairly new to nursing when I was in the hospital in November but by now she has been deep in the trenches. She used to be a school counselor but felt her true calling was nursing. She was right to follow her true calling.

Last time I gave her one of my bracelets...she keeps it in her car and tells me she thinks about me daily...I believe her.

On Saturday afternoon I get a fun new symptom: peeling and incredibly dry skin. I couldn't get enough moisture on my lips---they were peeling like they have been sunburned. And my face was peeling too and so was my hairline...I kept putting on moisturizer and drinking but the peeling kept happening...

My fever finally breaks on Saturday and I feel like a new person...albeit a new person who's skin is peeling off like a snake and still has to lumber around with an iv pole in my tiny little room.

I'm not allowed to wander the halls or even go to the nurses station...the COVID precautions are very strong...that keeps the nurses safe from me wandering about and doing my usual nonsense on the floor...

Precious Chizoh is my nurse tech that night and once again, as she did in November, she offers to bathe me and changes my sheets and helps me to feel human again. The woman is a saint. So is Elysee. I cry with their kindness and love...

Sunday morning fresh hell is delivered in the form of 60 mg of prednisone. I thought it was 10 mg but find out later I was mistaken.

Let me describe my relationship with prednisone:

HATE

yes hate...I literally detest it and I know it's going to be a while before I can get off.

The jitters start, my face turns redder and I can feel my body swelling by the moment.

I'm literally turning into a live balloon animal...I feel like the snake in the movie "Shrek" that he blows up and makes into a balloon...

If prednisone was a tv character he would be Joffrey Baratheon (and for you non Game of Thrones people lets just say BARNEY...annoying and makes you want to throw things...)

If prednisone was a food it would be unseasoned white rice because it makes you want to binge on carbs but nothing tastes all that good...

If prednisone was a color it would be red because it turns you into a heat machine....

I think you get how much I hate prednisone....it's like having to eat liver every day...and the pills are super bitter...

So I get the whopper dose of prednisone on Sunday and things start to go all kinds of sideways but thankfully no fever.

The high point of that night: another sponge bath...the low point: no sleep and I forget to order my dinner.

Let's start with dinner fiasco...Elysee comes into my room to take vitals at 6:58 and I realize I had forgotten to order my dinner.

It was the one night they didn't call to ask if I was going to order. I had this exact problem back in November. I have a plan for the next time: a timer on my phone.

I call and get put on automatic hold and then the phone abrubtly ends the call. I call back and it is 7:01 and no one answers.

So much for dinner.

I call the nurse and despite the fact they are understaffed and having patient issues Lorena swears she will get me dinner even if it is just a sandwich from the cafeteria. Honestly I don't care and I offer to take myself down there but she isn't having it.

They are so overwhelmed with patients no one can go down until almost 9 and when Chizoh gets there the cafeteria is closed for the COVID cleaning they do several times a day. It's not until 11 that I finally got food. Trust me I wasn't starving and honestly I should have just cancelled but Lorena again wasn't having it and knew I needed food with all the drugs.

I eat and then become so engrossed in a Ryan Reynolds movie that I lose track of time...Lorena comes in and says I need to get some sleep and gives me a sleeping pill. I am determined to find out who Ryan falls in love with so that doesn't help the sleeping matters. But I take the pill and pray it works...

It worked...

KIDDING!

at least I found out who Ryan ended up with...

Finally around 3:40 am I start to drift off...thank you prednisone...

At 4 I am woken to take vitals and can't get back to sleep until 4:45 and at 5:00 poor Lorena has to come in and take labs...she feels awful for me...

So I got two 20 minute naps that night. Thank God for Frasier...I also check out to see if my friend who does the early news is on and what she has on (she's always super gorgeous even at 4:30 am)

On Monday the doc declares I must be fever free 48 hours to be released (so 6 pm on Monday) and that the prednisone is going to continue for some time.

I have a meltdown.

Total meltdown.

Like crying my eyes out...hiccuping...having a HUGE pity party...

I am on no sleep, my skin is peeling, I have a fungal infection all in my body so that I am a walking mushroom, my hair is a rat's nest so I look like a very blonde version of Bellatrix LaStrange, and I can't go home until evening...

My nurse for the day, a precious girl named Jeanna (who I immediately bonded with over my nail polish color...she's my kind of girl) comes in to find me weeping uncontrollably (thank you Jeffrey Baratheon prednisone) and calls the doc and insists that I get some Adavan so I can calm down and maybe nap.

Doc orders Adavan and Jeanna brings it and hangs another bag of God knows what...I order fish for lunch (bad idea) and finally get about an hours nap in the afternoon.

I feel like hell.

I'm finally done with iv's so dearest Adam comes in and takes out my port line and can tell that the prednisone is doing a number on me.

Doc orders a higher dose sleeping pill so that I can maybe sleep that night...one can hope...

Finally at about 6:30 I am released into the wild again and I get to go home.

Aunt Jane is there to pick me up and to come stay at the house with me to make sure I don't have any issues. The woman is a saint and I am beyond blessed to have her as my aunt, best friend, caretaker and "person".

As much as I want to get home to my own bed and my kitties it is a bit scary to leave the hospital...as much as I hate it in there I always feel very safe and cared for.

I get home and take my temp every hour...thankfully no more fever but I do feel like I have been put through hell.

I get a real shower and Aunt Jane makes sure I am good and settled and we dig in to watching Hamilton (me for the 5th time...still loving it) and I finally relax but continue to reach for my imaginary iv pole every time I stand up and walk about...when you are attached to one for 6 days you tend to feel like it is an extension of your arm.

Being home I finally rest better but sleep is still elusive until about 2 am because of the steroids...but at least I am in my own bed and I don't have anyone coming to take my temperature and blood pressure every 4 hours.

My cat, who has been very sick herself with kidney failure (which by a miracle and the support of friends we were able to stop further damage from but she still needs daily hydration via a needle under her skin), hangs with me as close as she can so she can watch over me. Dragon, my other cat, insists on sleeping on my legs to anchor me down and keep me from leaving again.

Pets know when you are ill...

they also know the difference between when I have returned from a fun few days at the lake with KuteKaren and when I have been in the hospital.

So I have been home for a while and the aftermath of the hospital stay was not much fun either...the prednisone continued to bother my sleep and is caused me to have the dreaded "moon face" (where your face gets even rounder and puffed up) and I have swelling so much in my left leg that the cat literally leaves footprints in my skin unless I take a diuretic (which makes me spend all day in the bathroom).

The drugs also did some unspeakable things to my gut that as open and honest as I am I will draw the line at discussing that here but suffice it to say "mortified" is the best way I can describe what happened to me.

I couldn't work out because of the wound and the continuing gut issues and I really really missed being on the bike.

COVID continues to keep me locked in the house except for the occasional jaunt to the Cancer Center or to pick up things curbside. I haven't been inside a restaurant since early March when KuteKaren and I had a visit to our favorite sushi bar (and yes I really miss sushi but bringing it home "to go" is not appealing).

So there's the story of what happened to me since I told you all it was too long for a regular social media post...I literally sat in the sun reading a book and ended up in the hospital.

Let's just all agree no more sun for me...

Most of the peeling finally stopped (after 3 weeks...yes 3 weeks) and weirdly it has taken years of sun damage off of my skin so although I eye my lounge chairs outside where I used to love to lay like a lizard in the sun I will not be venturing out again to do that. I'll just have dark roots and no tan...but my skin is looking great especially on my arms.

it's a spa treatment that I really do not recommend

As for the wound: I STILL HAVE IT...

as I write this it is October 11 and the wound is like a second degree burn on my stomach.

this has been going on since July 10.

After all the prednisone and antibiotics it still won't close so now I am seeing wound care doctor and she is treating me with all kinds of wonderful things like honey in the wound and an antibiotic patch.

She also did a culture and I have some sort of "fancy" (her word) bacteria plaguing me that is hard to treat and between my penicillin allergy and chemo meds it is hard to find a drug that works but the team (onco, wound doc, pharmacy doc) decided to put me on Levaquin. It can lead to tendon tearing (so no bike for me) and heart rate issues (so no bike for me). I'm being careful still and I am glad I am done with it.

My onco also wanted me to see a dermatologist...

So she finds a derm she thinks is the right one to help with this wound stuff and gives me her name. I keep forgetting to make an appointment and they keep forgetting to call me.

Finally I get a call from them and I tell them I want to see a specific doctor.

Appointment made.

Aunt Jane comes to help me get there since I am now on a walker and we get there only to find out the requested doc is not there on Wednesdays and it is indeed Wednesday.

I pitch a fit and become very frustrated.

Yes, I became "a Karen"...(apologies to my friends KuteKaren1 and KuteKaren2 and KuteKerin)

Aunt Jane suggests we give the doc that I do have the appointment with a try.

Well in walks an angel and she is indeed the perfect fit...God was with me and I was fighting him.

She did a biopsy, a culture, blood work and gave it a good look and told me to continue with her and the wound doc.

BEST NEWS: she doesn't think that my wound should impede me from having surgery so pending the outcome of the biopsy and culture she plans to send Dr Muppet a letter stating I am good to go.

Glory Halleluyer!

She has me on another antiobiotic and some new topical med and it seems to be working...

Now on to other things---because wait: THERE IS MORE!

Because with me and the cancer it can't just be one little thing like fighting the cancer...

so here's the rest of it...

Just prior to going in to the hospital I had a scan.

I had my first scan since November....and it was a GOOD scan.

In November I had 10 measureable lymph nodes. At that time 5 had grown and 5 had shrunk. Dr. Rockstar and I were fairly pleased with that scan....and it was before we changed my drug protocol.

But then the spine stuff happened and everything went sideways and whatever was happening on the scan was less important than what had happened with my spine.

But then I got to start immunotherapy and a new cancer pill and my CA125 marker started going down and I was feeling pretty good except for some issues that continue to plague me with my spine...more on that later in this blog...

So back to the scan---this scan (from July) looked so much better than my previous few scans...

I'm happy to say only 4 lymph nodes were measureable and all were shrinking...

which in cancer world is a very very good thing...

I'm not NED (no evidence of disease) but it looks like I'm at least stable or that the cancer isn't growing right now...so it's still there but it's behaving...

El Diablo is in a time out!

So now onto the spine and the follow up for the wound...

And as it turns out my MRI I had on the same day as the scan in July has revealed that I still have a serious disk issue so I am in for another stay in Memorial Hermann very soon (probably in November) and there will be surgery to correct it.

I have compression on a major nerve and it is causing pain and issues to my mobility.

Serious issues.

And a screw that is loose---and not just the one in my head lol...(reading that sentence should be accompanied by you hearing a drum rim shot in your head as you read...yes it is a corny joke but hey my onocology team LOVES it)

I have been in pain with this since the surgery last year. My left leg will not lift on it's own. I get horrible pain upon standing. I can only stand for maybe 10 minutes at a time.

And it's getting worse...I am more and more dependent on my walker again. Last weekend the pain was so bad I needed pain meds.

It's a miracle I can ride my spin bike at all (but not now) but it is the one place I don't hurt. And where I feel "normal".

I knew there was an issue after surgery because I could not lift my leg off the bed. I was practicing yoga 5-7 hours a week so my legs and core were strong but I could only lift the left leg about 2 inches off the bed while my right leg I could easily get into a full lift that was perpendicular to my body.

Ding ding ding...Houston we may have a problem...

Doc said to wait and let it heal because the cysts on my disk had put a lot of pressure on my nerve and I had some pretty bad spinal stenosis.

Had my 3 week checkup and it had barely improved...but we needed to wait...nerves are slower to heal.

Had another checkup prior to the shut down and Doctor Muppet (he looks like a Muppet but he's very kind) agreed we needed an MRI to see what was going on.

Then the shut down happened and I could not get an MRI.

So we waited...and waited...and then waited until it was time for a CT so that if we needed to do surgery we could see what El Diablo was up to.

The scan revealed the trouble but then I was in the hospital with the fever...and then recovering...and just starting back on my much needed chemo drugs and I wanted a few rounds in me before doing any surgery and then I had to wait 3 weeks to get in to see him.

It's been a long wait to deal with this and it is getting worse. When I was on the massive steroids I was not in pain from it but once they wore off the pain doubled down.

So now I stay locked in my house due to COVID-19, I need a walker to get around most of the time and I am just waiting on this damn wound to heal up.

Plus the knee...but the poor knee still needs to wait...one day it's just gonna give out on me and that will be it...it's so bone on bone I can feel it...and my last round of gel shots did nothing because the chemo ate it up...but I'm going to try it again...

So it looks like in November (if the wound heals) Dr Muppet and I will meet in the OR once again.

I have had surgery in November 3 times since 2016 so why not keep tradition.

November 2016---hysterectomy to remove cancer

November 2017---hernia repair

November 2019---second spinal fusion

November 2020---possible 3rd spinal fusion

(in 2018 I decided to shake things up and had surgery in April...that was the first spinal fusion).

And yes, I acknowledge that it is a lot of surgery...spinal fusion surgery is horrific pain so I am really not looking forward to having to do it again.

I don't really have any wisdom gained from all of this---except that you need to set a timer on your phone when you are in the hospital or you might miss dinner or perhaps avoiding fish is while in the hospital is a good idea or maybe that we all need to keep thermometers around that read farenheit...

I do know that I am being cared for by the best medical team there is and that the nurses I had in the hospital absolutely rocked and my poor doctors still don't have a clue why it all happened but they have me back to being (relatively) healthy---other than the wound and my spine and knee issues.

And a little issue of cancer.

My body is really responding well to the chemo treatments so that is what is keeping me going.

It was not easy being in the hospital alone...and I have had several friends who have had to do so during this time of COVID and it is a very lonely experience to not have a loved one there to advocate for you or to bring you things if you need them. I very much missed having Aunt Jane there to hear things and ask questions and she's always super helpful at getting me water so the nurses don't have to all the time.

And when I had my breakdown that morning it was such a feeling of loss of control and once again cancer robbing me of being "normal". I'm blessed I had a nurse who saw I was falling apart and needed help. I had tried to be brave in front of the doctors but when the reality of the situation hit me it was too much to bear so I am grateful that Jeanna came in and knew I needed some support. I feel bad for other patients who aren't as lucky or for those who can't speak for themselves.

I've survived a lot...and I will survive this...and with God's grace my body will continue to respond to the immunotherapy and chemo pills and my wound will heal and I will get my spine fixed before I damage it even more.

Cancer is a roller coaster...and trust me I want off this ride...

Inspiration Song: "Fever" by Peggy Lee...because no one sings it better...

Bye Darlings...this took me forever to finish...but there was so much to include. Thank you for reading this through because I know it was a lot. Next blog will hopefully be less of a mess...

Summer Breeze

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 26 May 2020 01:27:00 +0000

Hi Darlings,

This blog is a little different...I hope you like it...

I'm laying in a lounge chair in my backyard...it's Memorial Day 2020 and my mind wants to drift back to a time when life was so much simpler.

The sun is going down and there is a breeze stirring up the trees and blowing the scent of the Carolina Jasmine around in the air. It's a large unkempt bush that I refuse to chop down even though it doesn't put out many blooms but those that do still perfume the air.

I see a little squirrel running about in the branches of a tree hanging over from my neighbors yard and nearby two blue jays are having a quarrel while the peacocks that roam the neighborhood shriek and scream in the distance. A fat bumble bee flies at me and nearly gets caught in my hair it's buzz as loud as a saw as I shake it out.

I lay back and close my eyes and set my phone to play songs from my childhood summers...1976 to be exact...a time before my father chose to spend time with another woman and leave our family. A woman who never liked or accepted me and tormented me for years but is now in my past. She's mother to one of my brothers and two of my sisters but to me---nothing.

A song comes on that transports me to my childhood bedroom. It's painted lavender and soft green with a long shag carpet and my camp trump stands open at the end of one of my two canopy beds. The trunk is slowly being filled with whatever I need for camp along with whatever fun things I want to take that I might just want. And lots of stationery...because back then we wrote letters...

I want to go back to camp.

I sip on my Kool Aid since today, in 2020, I am fighting cancer and need to hydrate for the chemo to come. But the taste of the grape, sweet and sugary in my mouth, makes me think of "canteen" time at camp.

I picture my camp friends and counselors...my beloved Camp Director Julie standing on the porch of the "Big House" before we snake inside to load our trays with food that in my memory---was delicious. I can almost taste the strawberry cake, the Hunter's Stew (which I am pretty sure was just Dinty Moore but it tasted better after having sat on a campfire), the sweet tea we drank by the gallons, the pizza cut in squares like at school and most of all the beloved Brownie Pudding that was sure to make all of us sugared up good but could also get us to behave in every possible way since we knew it was a treasured treat.

I hear the sweet voices as we sing our goodnight songs before heading back to cabins to shower and sleep with no air conditioning but the breeze through the screen doors and the whirring box fans (which to this day will lull me to sleep) kept us cool.

I was always on a bottom bunk so each morning I would sit up and get my hair caught in the springs of the bunk above me...woken by the clanging bell that started our days at the best place on earth.

I wish I could stand in the creek once more and feel the icy water rush past me as I hear the sounds of the guns cracking from the rifle range...and wave to the other cabin of girls as they ride past on horses for a trail ride---something I loathed but put up with at camp. I never was good at riding like my sisters and brother were...they loved it...I...survived it.

The peacocks scream again and I am transported back to the 70's and summer on the King Ranch...peacocks roamed the grounds and screamed constantly.

Memories flood back of Cousin Camp where I was forced to ride each day but did so just so I could do things all day with my beloved cousin Henrietta. I waited all year to get to be with her, and CeCe, and Sarah, and Anne Marie, and of course my cousins Mike, Linda, Jamie and Martin who would toss me across the pool like I was a ball.

Cousin Camp was as glorious as sleepaway camp...but in some ways better because we were all family. It was a week I lived for as a child and I mourned the loss of it more than I mourned my parent's divorce. Because of my father leaving the ranch we were no longer allowed to go back and I regret that my children never knew how much fun an impromptu dance party in the pool house could be. Or what it was like to have a pie fight and hear my aunts yell at us not to jump into the pool---which we did anyway. Or to just push the merry go round as fast as we could to see how long we could hold on. Simple pleasures.

I wish I could return to Kings Inn with my cousins or our dear family friends the Canales family and dance to the juke box while stuffing ourselves with shrimp and tartar sauce.

My memories of camp and Kings Inn give way to what Memorial Day would have been back then.

Music on the jukebox plays (mostly Eagles and Abba and Fleetwood Mac) as we swim for so many hours our toes would bleed from bouncing on the bottom of the pool. I can hear my father's laugh and my mother directing where the food should be and asking Peyton to take charge of the grilling as my dad tended to get to talking and burn things.

I see my parent's friends fanned out around the pool---some smoking and having a beer, others bouncing a baby in the water, the dogs running about and trying to jump in. My little sister Katie is in the "baby pool"---a place she was so comfortable in that she would often sneak out of the house, remove her diaper, and sit in the pool with a dog on either side of her. My sister Susan is a baby and is in her outdoor bassinet in the shade of the pool house and my friends, sisters and I try to boss the younger kids around and keep them from joining us in the bigger part of the pool.

The memories are jolted away by the sound of my air conditioner kicking on loudly and whirring as it cools my house.

My house.

It feels like 5 minutes ago I was in Kingsville in my backyard in the pool with a camp trunk waiting to be closed and instead I am alone in my own backyard in a lounge chair I bought in a house that is mine alone.

It's 2020 and my kids are in their own places and their father is now spending time with another woman (with my blessing).

And there is a pandemic.

And I'm alone...and a bit lonely but at peace with the lonliness.

I change my playlist to 1982 and remember that May so long ago.

I remember my graduation...praying my parents would be nice to each other and just give me one night where I didn't have to listen to one complain about the other. I solved that for my own children by placing myself somewhere else in the stadium than where their father was sitting.

I remember sitting in the chairs with my hair curled just so in my very hot graduation gown and my cap perfectly placed on my head so as to show off those curls. I sat next to John and we entertained each other during the ceremony and I remember looking at him thinking he might just be the nicest boy I had ever met and I knew he was going to accomplish things. He did.

We had a party at our house where my friend Kris and I made the worlds worst margaritas and my friends who dared to jump into the pool were shocked by how freezing it was. But it was a fun party.

And now back in 2020 I think of my friend's kids who will not get to sit on a track in a hot polyester graduation gown with a cap perched just so on their heads...or if they do it won't be the same as it was when I was young...or even last year. And they might not have a boy as sweet as John was sitting next to them.

My mind then drifts to Memorial Day about 2008 when camp trunks are sitting open in two bedrooms in my old house. It's 3 years before I will leave my ex and the washing machine is broken as I am trying to wash all the camp stuff before packing it. My daughter has just finished 8th grade and my son will be moving on to middle school. We lazily swim in our backyard pool and discuss what needs to go into the trunks and I am disappointed that my daughter doesn't have the same excitement about camp that I did but my son is fully ready to get to his camp and spend 28 days just being a boy.

And then I remember the last summer I had in that house. The kids and I floating in the pool most evenings before dinner...time that was so precious because we would swim and talk and laugh. And I knew that in a moment they would be gone...

I open my eyes and watch the squirrel a bit more...and a lizard who seems to be desperately trying to find a girlfriend. He bubbles out his little red throat bubble and scurries around but I don't see any lady friends around for him to attract so maybe he's doing it for me.

The air conditioner has quieted again and I say a prayer for my friends who are in the hospital battling COVID. They are a dear married couple who have already had a hellish year because their house burned down (killing all their fur babies) and their daughter is one of my seniors. He is in one unit recovering while she is in mid-battle in another unit of the same hospital. She tells me that the nurses relay messages between the two of them and my heart breaks that this is how their daughter's senior year is ending. This is not how Memorial Day should be for them or any of us.

I look down at my raggedy nails and long for a manicure but my doctor warns me that I am at too high a risk because of my cancer. So they will look awful for a while longer.

My hair, once so bleached blonde from hours in a swimming pool as a child (and sometimes green thanks to that same pool) now needs Sun-In (yeah I am old school) to lighten the roots. My hair is not the shiny platinum of my youth but is now a brassy golden blonde that could really use a cut.

But no one is seeing me and I'm not allowed to go out to eat or shop so who cares what my hair is like. Besides it is always residing in a pony tail atop my head.

I'm stuck in my house...or in my backyard.

But as I feel the sun getting lower and decide to move inside and write this all down before it leaves my head I feel gratitude...

I had a great childhood despite some hiccups along the way.

I didn't have a great marriage but I have wonderful memories of my own kids when they were young and we enjoyed the summer together or when I packed them up to go to their own camp.

I worry for my friends but am grateful they are responding to treatment and I pray that I will not be texting any other people I love in the hospital.

I stand up and my nerve that is pinched in my left leg reminds me that my body is damaged and standing is not as easy as it was last summer...before the second spinal fusion.

I take a few last sips of my Kool Aid and make my way inside to fill my glass again lest I have an oncologist fuss at me for my creatinine levels once more. I head to my shower to wash off the sun and the sweat just as the katydids start to sing their songs...visions of summer's past blowing through my mind.

Summer has started...what memories are there to be made in a year of a pandemic?

Only August knows...

Inspiration Song: "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Crofts...because the summer breeze reminds me that once again we will all feel fine....

Bye Darlings...I hope you enjoyed my reverie...and maybe it reminded you of the summers of your past...and let's pray for the one that is before us...and please pray for my friends and all the sweet seniors who have had their school year end this way...

Times Like These

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Thu, 07 May 2020 02:30:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

(This is not a "cancer" blog...we don't need that right now...I'm ok and the Keytruda/Lenvima seems to be working...we are balancing my dying thyroid and I had the sinus infection from hell that caused me not only to have hives but also severe gut issues and an allergy to penicillin...it's been super fun! Ok enough about that...)

well well well...

I don't think anyone could have ever imagined we would be in a global pandemic locked in our houses, did we?

I mean if you had said to ANY of us:

"Spring Break will end in disaster and you will end up locked in your house for months at a time and Texas will allow restaurants to serve alcoholic drinks to go and the irony will be that Cinco de Mayo will be ruined by a virus called Corona"

"oh....and there will be something about hornets..."

Well we would have laughed and said "try better at a joke".

But this is no joke...

Over these last many weeks (I have lost count since I have been locked inside since early March) I have had so much time to think about all of this...and thankfully it has let me work through some stuff.

So
Much
Time

I've learned a lot...

I bet we all have...
and if you haven't learned something from this...well...

honestly how the hell are you functioning because there is no way to have been dealing with this unscathed or without some lessons...or learning what Tik Tok is...

hell if I can learn to bake banana bread surely most people have learned something about themselves or at least tried a Pioneer Woman recipe

And can we discuss the lack of washing our hair?

On second thought...maybe not...

I've literally gone nuts inside my house so I am blessed that Aunt Jane is letting me have the use of her spin bike so that I don't start glittering items in my home as a way to deal with stress.

And thankfully my beloved Revolution has virtual classes so I can ride with my people and cry when I see their beautiful faces on my computer screen (full disclosure I have actually watched a yoga class just so I can hear the beautiful Aussie voice of my HeavenlySkye).

One would think I have gotten all kinds of things done...

One would be WRONG

Oh I have perfected my bourbonrita and I am a wiz at making one chicken last for many more meals than I thought possible and yes I attempted banana bread but otherwise I have been lazy and/or dealing with feeling like crap because of the meds I am on to battle El Diablo.

For the first time in over 30 years I have bare nails and I will not comment on my feet.

My skin looks great because I have only put on makeup maybe 4 times in 8 weeks (for doctor's appointments and chemo) and I'm drinking all the water water water...

I've also had some sleeping issues which I am sure more than a few of you have also had. Mine seem to be induced by my thyroid issue but I also think a layer of stress is on me that I am not acknowledging. I have discovered that if I turn on BBC America and they are showing one of the 423 Planet Earth documentaries that the soothing sound of Sir Richard Attenborough's voice does seem to help me drift off...and I have learned a lot about the mating habits of birds in Madagascar and New Guinea (look up Bowerbirds...no seriously look them up...really cute...not gonna tell you why so you have to look on Wikipedia).

I've started and stopped more streaming series than I care to list but I will give you:

Hollywood (just started...excellent)
Little Fires Everywhere (about halfway through...really good just other things to watch)
The Morning Show (soooo good)
Unorthodox (beautiful and enlightening)
We're Here (watching as each episode is doled out by HBO...compassionate and beautiful)
Ugly Delicious (when I don't want to think)
Alta Mar (subtitled but oh the costumes...as it was described to me: Clue on the Titanic)
Dr Thorne (lovely...just lovely)

I tend to go for happy sweet shows or anything with Reese in it (and yes I have watched Legally Blonde at least twice) and I am always always in for a costume drama (Belgravia anyone?)

So we are all washing our hair less (did I mention that I wish I had stock in dry shampoo?) and washing our hands a lot more and spending our time watching Netflix and not wearing bras or real clothes...

So how many Pioneer Woman recipes have you tried? I tend to cook like her so to me it's like watching myself cook...

And I have remembered that I don't enjoy baking (although I have loved looking at the pictures of my friends' efforts on social media and I am jealous).

Margaritas to go is something that better remain in place after quarantine is lifted because I am safer drinking a Club No Minor purple margarita at home than I am while at the restaurant. Plus I'm the only one who has to put up with me AFTER said margarita...

Now raise your hand if you have taken scissors to your own head or put on some form of color on that may or may not have left you with hair that was not quite the shade you were going for...yeah I see you...I took off a few inches the other day and I rediscovered Sun-In (which mercifully took my roots away and has not left me looking like I had an accident with peroxide).

I flirted with the idea of dying it pink, or putting in a pink streak, or doing a dip dye thing and then I realized I didn't want to risk ruining my hair and that I am 55 and maybe I need to behave...so I bought clip in streaks instead and that way I can have pink when I want it...

I had a sad little moment when my last acrylic nail popped off...and I found myself buying nail polish on Amazon that will hopefully grace my nails sometime before June...or July...or August...(polish will not stay on my naked nails...I have to have 1988 style acrylic for it to work lol)

Speaking of Amazon who has "sad shopped"?

What is "sad shopping"?

self explanatory---it's shopping while sad...which is not to be confused with drug or drunk shopping.

Sad shopping yields things like blow up swimming pools or Adirondack chairs or a color balancing hair treatment (see above with the hair stuff)...and yes all 3 of those were or are about to be something I am purchasing...guess which 2 are already paid for?

Drunk or drug shopping is a whole other thing...

I shall explain:

in 2018 when I had the first spinal fusion surgery I was on a good deal of morphine...a very good deal of morphine...because it HURT LIKE NO PAIN I HAD BEFORE NOT EVEN CHILDBIRTH.

So there I was hopped up on morphine and at 1:30 in the morning I'm channel surfing while I am recovering in Memorial Hermann and I find QVC and...well...

let's just say things came to my house that I had no idea I had ordered...I had even received emails about them but in my drugged state I just deleted...

I ended up with:
a fabulous primer
a dress that I always get compliments on
a new eye shadow pallette that I use all the time
and
yoga pants

by some miracle I seem to do better shopping on morphine than I usually do while sober but I will tell you the surprise of all of these boxes appearing at my door threw me for a loop...the yoga pants was normal...

So mercifully I have avoided drunk shopping during quarantine because I have not gotten drunk and I don't do drugs unless I am recovering from surgery and then those drugs are the serious scary stuff...

and the last time I was in the hospital I noticed that they had taken QVC off the channel lineup...

I'm betting I wasn't the only one who had a mysterious dress show up...just sayin....

But I do think we might all succomb to quarantine shopping...

and let's see how many of you have bought things off Facebook or Instagram ads...(I will be raising my hand here...at least twice)

I will not make you raise your hand if you have hoarded the Charmin but honestly people are you sure you needed all of that lifetime supply? I'm sure none of my friends have but I am sure some of you saw *that woman* in the HEB who had a basketful of Cottonelle and all the Clorox wipes who was unapologetic about it.

I am unable to go into HEB (or any store for that matter) so I have not witnessed this craziness firsthand but I have heard about it on FB.

Instead I have to depend on curbside delivery as my doctors have basically told me that I have the immune system of a newborn and I better not mess it up or test it...I tend to get texts from one of my doctors that end in exclamation !!!!! points to make sure I understand I am under no circumstances allowed out in public. I'm not even gonna ask her if I can get a pedi or hair done and I already can imagine the 8 !!!!!!!! that will accompany the "no" if I ask her if I can go spin...

So I am grateful to curbside delivery to keep me stocked up with chicken and the worlds biggest spaghetti squash (that will get tackled this weekend) and I sadly can't seem to get goat cheese (but I found a new source). And yes those magical margaritas I mentioned...(seriously people if you haven't tried a purple El Patio margarita now is the time when you are safe at home...I recall I almost left the ex early on in marriage thanks to the blue ones from there).

Right now my favorite game is seeing how long I can make one chicken last after boiling it (so far I have had a chicken salad, chicken tacos, and have 3 quarts of liquid gold chicken stock that is so rich it is practically gelatin). I also like to see how long I can go between curbside visits and to use all my groceries wisely...and I have learned that I really really like to use cilantro and onions...

When all of this started I had GOALS:
I was going to blog a lot
I was going to organize my closet
I was going to hang the pictures I have never bothered to hang
I was going to learn to bake things
I was going to organize and start using my study(instead of it just being the cat box room)

Zero of that happened...and this is my first blog in months...

But what I have learned is some grace for myself and my fellow man through all of this...

I had a silly fight with an old friend when this started and I'm happy to say we reconnected better than ever once we both simmered down (I'm gonna throw myself under the bus for that one).

I have learned that just because I can handle things a certain way doesn't mean others can

I will not judge those who want to "get out" and those who want to "stay in"...everyone deserves to be as in control of that as they are over their own bodies...

I do not have to "make things happen" at home and if I can just manage a day that I don't cry I am calling it a good one.

I am so grateful to God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost that I am not married to the ex during this and that my kids are grown and I'm not having to tell someone to do their calculus or read that book...

My ex and I would have killed each other...seriously we would have been on the 10 o'clock news and guess which one of us would have been holding the gun?

My cats are completely annoyed that I am home so much...Angel finds that I am in her way although Dragon loves that there are more meals he can try and steal from.

I have learned that I can do with a lot less than I thought (especially grocery wise).

I don't miss putting on makeup so now I take these awful selfies with a bare face and no filters...but it has made me realize that I feel braver and more beautiful that way. I have always been one not to take a photo unless it looked good until a few years ago when I started at Revolution and sweaty selfies became a thing. My current social media profile pic is me with terrible hair and no makeup in the sun. Something I would never have done a year ago but now I'm feeling like I want to be me and not hide behind a veil of something. And I don't judge those who do but for me the challenge lately has been to find the love and self acceptance of myself AS I AM. (and there is more to that but it is for another blog).

I have a lot of beauty products...let me rephrase that: I have far too many beauty products...so I have been trying to use them to make my skin/hair/teeth/nails look better even if all I do is take selfies with no makeup/no filters. I scared the beejeezus out of my daughter the other day when she came by and found me with a sheet mask on and it scared her...her words: good one, Mom.

And do we even know what day it is?

I just call every day "DAY" now...there is no distinction...Monday can also be Wednesday.

I used to mark my days with my workouts but now that is gone too...I just fire up a class on my computer and get on the bike and take my punishment (and have fun) but it's no longer "Mel Monday" or "Ethan Sunday Service"...every day is just everyday...

Today it is Day and tomorrow it will be Day...

I'm blessed that I don't have to work remotely and show up and look good on a zoom call.

Oh...yes...ZOOM...

Now for me when I used to think of the word "Zoom" it conjured up a 70's public television show that featured kids doing (what I thought were) cool things like cooking and making crafts.

I learned to make my own play dough from that show.

And cook cinnamon toast.

And do Bernadette's magical arm thing...now that was some witchcraft right there until she showed us how she did it.

THAT'S what Zoom means to me...now it means that my friends mostly end up looking at me with a glare behind me from my lamp while they look mostly up my nose and see me once again with no makeup and hair that has only flirted with washing...

But I have loved that it has let me connect to a group of my close friends and we all have a virtual happy hour once a week so we can catch up, sing together, laugh and generally not feel so alone.

During those calls we have witnessed a haircut, played games, broke into song many many times, shared recipes, had birthday parties, and no one has turned themselves into a potato on screen.

Another thing (on a positive note) that I have noticed is that my neighbors are all being so "neighborly".

I live in a very stereotypical suburban neighborhood full of houses built in the late 60's and 70's with a few new ones sprinkled in where we have mature trees and a strong neighborhood association. I love driving through and seeing families out on walks and bike rides and neighbors sitting in their FRONT yards to talk across driveways.

Today I caught up with my neighbors across the street who have little ones...I love seeing their children playing outside. We were waiting to see the Blue Angels but alas the trees here prevented us from getting a good look. But I feel like that wasn't my purpose of sitting outside today---it was so I could meet these two PRECIOUS young moms and make new friends. I also got to meet the couple behind me who have this great fun dog and a cat (named Mayhem which is probably the best cat name ever) who likes to go for walks with the dog and his humans. So no fun jets but a good excuse to catch up with the people who surround me...

I've tried to support friends who have restaurants by ordering from them along with my own attempts at what I call "Quarantine Cuisine" and I pray all my friends with small businesses are able to stay in business once the worst of this passes us.

And now apparently we have to worry about "Murder Hornets" which honestly I felt like I needed to look in the Bible for because that sounds right up there with a plague of locusts.

Time passes differently these days...I sit outside in my back yard and get some sun to feel it on my skin, I ride my spin bike to feel stronger and I miss being with my students and people.

I feel so bad for my seniors and my friends' kids who are seniors...no prom, no last performances, and possibly no graduation---at least for a while. Those things are important.

But so is the time they have gained with their families as they are locked in together in their homes, apartments, townhouses and yards...

I miss hugging my students and hearing their silly jokes...or what happened in math class...or drying tears after a breakup.

I miss those precious moments of CONNECTING...zoom calls happen, texts happen, but nothing beats getting to hug one of them with love and pride...

I miss hugging people in general...

I'm a hugger...and it is HARD on ya girl here not to hug...

the other day at chemo my nurse Amshaa and I said to hell with it and hugged...for me it is normal to hug my angel nurses and it hurts not to wrap my arms around them...my nurse Ivy held my hand the other day after telling me my CA125 was still in normal range...I cried and just needed to connect with relief.

Being alone in a pandemic is LONELY y'all...

but it also has taught me to appreciate the moments I am not alone even more...be it with my kids...or a zoom birthday party...or a text exchange with a student...or sitting in my driveway talking to my neighbors.

I'm buying some adirondack chairs to put in my front yard.

For the 6 years I have lived here I have hidden in my back yard when I went outside. But now I will sit in the front in my new chair and enjoy a bubbly water while I watch the kids play outside and visit with my neighbors.

I can't easily walk up and down the street but it will be nice just to say hello on a day when going to Walgreens might be my only excitement because I get to talk to the human at the drive through.

I've learned things about friendship during this time and today I was reminded of how I often think of my friendships as a giant garden...and I think now is a good time for us to be mindful of our gardens...

The succelents bloom away and don't need much tending...the roots of those friendships thrive without constant attention but if tended easily they thrive...

The flowers need more care and attention...those are our fun friends and they bloom for us and keep us bright and happy...

The trees are our sturdy shade...they are the ones who shelter us in our own storms and they have strong roots with us...they are our real and chosen families...some trees are strong oaks and some are evergreens and some are fruit who nurture us along with the shade...

There are vines in the garden that weave in and out to connect us to others...

there are vegetables that nourish us as well...they are the ones who feed our souls and keep us going....

and yes, there are weeds...I have pulled out more than a few of those lately...

So each day while I am alone I know that I have a garden of love out in the world that I need to tend and it will give me back great love and pleasure...

I hope all of you are safe in this crazy storm of illness...I pray you are all healthy and learning things but also have the grace to know that it is perfectly ok if you spend a day in bed with the covers over your head or binging on Real Housewives...

There are no rules here on how you have to be...other than wearing masks and washing hands...

I just wanted to check in...to make sure you all are doing ok...that the murder hornets aren't building nests in your faith that this will all end...

that it's ok if you don't bake sourdough bread...and it is great if you do...

that it's ok if you don't shower...but at least wash your hands...

that it's ok if you get a lot done...or nothing at all...

it's ok...

we will be ok...

and one day, after this has ended, we might all have a little more love and grace for each other...

because it is in times like these we learn to live and love again...

Inspiraton Song: Times Like These by the Foo Fighters (one of my favorite songs and bands...Dave Grohl is my biggest celebrity crush). There is a gorgeous new version from Live Lounge All Stars from BBC Radio. There words are perfect for this time...

Lyrics:

I, I'm a one way motorway
I'm the one that drives away
Then follows you back home
I, I'm a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
Burning off alone

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again

I, I'm a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times…

Source: LyricFind

Bye Darlings...stay safe...stay smart...find grace and forgiveness...there is no "right" way to do this so just find a way to live and learn and love...

Together Again

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 15 Apr 2020 01:31:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

it has been a long long while...and now we have this terrible viral plague going on...I want to blog about it---I finally feel ready but not quite ready tonight.

But instead I'm going to give you this...my mother's eulogy.

My mom died April 13, 2005.

It is hands down the worst day of my life.

Worse than getting told I have cancer...

worse than getting told I have to have chemo...

worse than getting told I have to have radiation...

worse than getting told my spine is in need of fusion (twice)

worse than getting told my spine most likely needs fusion because of radiation...

worse than getting told there is no cure for my kind of cancer

worse than getting told it is stage 4 cancer

worse than getting told the baby inside me had died

worse than getting told the baby inside me was growing in my tube (which is remarkably the only place I didn't have cancer...)

worse than even my precious Daddy dying because my Daddy was everything but my mom was...well she was everything.

That day my world stopped and has never been the same.

I often am sad and glad she isn't here to see me with the cancer. Sad because it would be nice to have her hold me and tell me it's ok...and glad she doesn't have to see me cry when I am terrified by what is happening to me.

So 15 years ago I lost her...and for a while I was lost myself.

Each year the hurt is a little less sharp but it is there nonetheless.

It pricks at me and prickles...it makes me feel the pain I felt when my crushed and shredded disk was making my spinal column hurt me to the point of screaming.

I miss her beauty...her laugh...her style...her organizational skills...her cooking...

and I miss her being with my kids.

And at this scary time I just want to call her and say "Mom is it gonna be ok?"

And I'm sure that holds true for so many of you.

So I'm gonna close this out with her eulogy...because it is the best thing I think I ever wrote. Because I wrote it at 4 am in a sleep deprived state of such deep grief that I know that the words could have only come from God.

And by the way...the sweet child at the end of the eulogy is a lovely young woman now who is headed to college in the fall...she has a deep heart for helping special needs kids and plans to make it her life's work...she is incredible and a blessing and I think God marked her as a very amazing young woman from the beginning...she was wise then and is still wise now...

So here my friends and those who loved her are the words I wrote 15 years ago to honor the life and legacy of the most beautiful woman I have ever met: Debbie Dembski Shelton

Today we honor my mother, celebrate her life, mourn her death, and rejoice that she continues to grow in Christ. I gave some thought about what to say, and if I even could say anything---for those of you who know me know that I am seldom unemotional and easily give in to tears. But I will try my best today to do this for my mother because I know she would want me to. And heaven knows, I do love an audience, especially a captive one…and we have full house today…

When I was trying to decide what to say, what message to give, how to best honor her, so many thoughts and ideas came to me. I could speak about her past and give you a boring history of her life…not that her life was boring, but rather just me droning on and on about what she did. We have been to life celebrations like that and about the time that the speaker gets to the high school years of the deceased, we are often nodding off. I also thought about telling you just about what a great daughter, mother, grandmother, sister, and friend she was---but we all know that about her. You couldn’t speak to her without her mentioning her children, grandchildren, or family. Many of you know us and our children by name even if you have never seen our faces because she talked so much about us.

I thought about sending you all a message of peace, love, and our resurrection through Jesus Christ, but I think Father John had that covered and did it much more eloquently and elegantly than I ever could.

So, after some thought and prayer, and talking with my Aunt Jane, and a hope that I will be doing the right thing, I have decided to ask you all to do some things to honor her. I think it is the right thing to do, and I hope you all will do these things in her honor and memory---and it will please her greatly.

Not to steal any thunder from David Letterman, but I would now like to present to you the 10 things you can do to honor Debbie. I will borrow from his style and count backwards down to one, ending with the 2 things she would think are the most important.

Number 10---Cook with butter! My mother was a fabulous cook…she learned from her father who was also a great cook. She rarely produced a dish that wasn’t incredible tasting. She ate a healthy diet and enjoyed good food, but when she cooked, she cooked with butter. Most of our holiday meals centered on her delicious food and she didn’t skimp on the good stuff. So when you do anything in life, and not just when you cook…don’t skimp on the good stuff…make everything you do full fat, whole hog, and ignore the calories.

Number 9--- travel first class and see this world. It’s not always feasible to fly first class, but why not give up some of those frequent flyer points and get to your destination in a little more comfort? My mother always tried to do that…and she was always more comfortable for doing so. She loved to travel. She loved to go and see my brother Beto and his family in Africa----it’s a magnificent country and she loved to be there. She loved New York City---we traveled twice there with Camiel but she made many trips there and she never tired of the city. She took ordinary vacations to ordinary places but she also loved to travel to exotic and fun places like Hawaii, Bermuda, Egypt, and Europe. Even when she visited my sister Katie and her family in Fort Worth she turned it into a vacation. She loved to go places---whether she was traveling with her children or with friends. We took so many fabulous trips together and I know that I will miss having her as my favorite traveling companion. So get out there and see this world…and send my mother a postcard in a prayer.

Number 8---Sleep on a lot of soft pillows. My mother’s bed was a soft, safe haven for my children and my sibling’s children…all the grandchildren have slept in Nona’s great big bed, surrounded by all of her soft pillows. Sometimes our entire family would pile into her bed. My mother had guest rooms but my sister Susan would always sleep in her bed when she came to visit because Mom’s bed was the best. Everyone who was at her house at some point would find themself lounging about on my mother’s bed. My mother made bed-making into an art form. Her pillows were soft and plentiful and her sheets were luxurious. But translating that to real life, what she did was to create comfort around herself. We can all honor her by splurging on the creature comforts in our home and create that safe, soft haven that welcomes us.

Number 7---take more pictures. My mother took more photos than anyone I knew---she also managed to display them all. If you were at the funeral home yesterday you saw just a smidgen of the photos she had. And if you were there yesterday I sincerely hope you saw the marvelous video that my Aunt Gayle put together with some of Mom’s photos. She loved photos of friends and family and usually had her photos to the developer within hours of taking them. Take photos and share them with everyone. There is no greater artwork in this world than the human face.

Number 6---Keep a clean house. I have failed miserably at this…she was such a tidy house keeper and I am nothing but a mess…never dirty, just messy. Her home was ready for “Better Homes and Gardens” to come and photograph it at any moment. When her father died she took on keeping the house to help my grandmother out when she went back to work. I was told a story about her neat-nick ways that makes me laugh. Back in the early 60’s, when my mother and her siblings were young, my Uncle Phil was home relaxing. Suddenly my Uncle Steve ran through the house yelling “Run for your lives!” and raced out of the house. My Uncle John soon followed suit and jumped out the window. The next thing that Phil saw was my mother making a mad dash through the house and she forced Phil, along with Jane, Gayle and the others, out of the house. When my grandmother came home she found 5 of her 6 children waiting on the front porch, locked out of the house. It seems that my mother had done her cleaning and they weren’t allowed back in---no matter what. Her housekeeping skills continued on to her adult life. She had a maid that had absolutely nothing to do. She threw out her clutter and kept things so organized. Her closet is a work of art. She never had to worry that her house wasn’t tidy enough for anyone to drop on by. Speaking of which, that brings up:

Number 5----Throw more parties! My mother was the hostess with the mostest. Martha Stewart had nothing on her. She gave great parties. She was the social director for whatever community she lived in. When I was young I can remember sitting with my sisters and brother and watching all of my Mom and Dad’s friends come in to the parties they gave. They had fabulous parties…costume parties, hunting parties, dancing parties, teas, casino parties, bridge parties and benefit parties. They entertained heads of state and heads of the school. We loved to watch her get dressed for a party and always were amazed that she could look so beautiful each and every time. Our home was the gathering place for the web of friends that she had in Kingsville. I remember Sunday afternoons spent with our family friends coming by---the kids stayed in the pool until we were long past the prune stage, the dads would stand around and drink beer until it was time to watch Peyton cook the burgers, and the moms would lay in their chairs sunning themselves while wearing curlers in the hair covered by a silly cap or bandana. Why those women lounged in the sun in hair curlers is beyond me, but I can still see that group of people at my house as if it was yesterday. She could even turn a hairdressing adventure into a party. In the early 70’s I remember her friends showing up, armed with home “frost your hair” kits, Lancer’s Rose wine, and cigarettes for those who smoked. The would seat themselves around my mother’s long vanity area and pull each other’s hair through the frosting caps…all the while yakking and drinking wine. As the evening wore on my sister Noel and I became hot commodities because we could pull the hair through the caps for them when they got a little too tipsy to do it right. They would emerge a few hours later, full of wine, full of fun, with head’s full of frosted hair---they all looked a little like Bea Arthur in her “Maude” days…and my mother was their queen. Those were some of the greatest times of my life, and I think my siblings will agree. Most of the best times were never a planned thing…it was just that everyone knew that our family and my mother would welcome everyone and no one had to put much thought to it. Have a party---we are, because she would want us to!

Number 4----Support education. It was so important to my mother that we got an education. I know the day my sister Sarita graduated was one of the proudest days of her life. My graduation from A&M was a triumph for both of us because she never went to college. Her siblings went to various universities and she was proud of their accomplishments. She tried to give us the best education possible. While in Kingsville she sent us to an amazing Episcopal school. When the time came to educate my own children I feel so blessed that I too found an amazing Episcopal school for my children. I use what she did for us as a blueprint for how to raise my own children and I was pleased that I can give such a wonderful educational gift to them. My mother loved going to St. Francis and seeing her grandchildren perform, or attending grandparent day, or even just picking them up in the carpool line. She so believed in the school that she participated in the school’s capital campaign and regularly gave to the Annual Giving program. But her dedication to good education didn’t stop with her grandchildren’s school----she gave scholarships to A&M, helped build on to our school when we were children, and she helped out with various projects at Texas A&I when she lived in Kingsville. So give to the school of your choice and support it well, she would really like that.

Number 3--- Drink more water and exercise more. Was there ever a time that we didn’t see her drinking water? She never ordered anything in a restaurant but water. She was a connoisseur of water and she drank it by the gallon. She always had a bottle of water and kept several pitchers of it in her fridge. It’s good for you and won’t interrupt your sleep…so toast her with your next glass and drink it more often. And get out there and work out! My mother loved to exercise…she was in amazing shape and she worked hard at it. She loved to walk with her friends in the morning and she also loved going to the Houstonian to work out. She enjoyed trying all kinds of classes but usually stuck to her walks with friends when the weather was nice. I know that she managed to get many of you out of the house to walk with her and I only wish she had made me do so more often with her---then I might fit into more of her gorgeous clothes! Take care of your health---she would want you to.

Number 2---Go to church. My mother loved coming to St. Michael’s. She loved this church and she loved the Catholic Church. She often walked to mass from her house so that she could exercise both her body and her spirit. She loved her faith and she clung to it. She loved Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and God. She prayed for all of us…so let us all remember her in our prayers and thank God for her life because He did such good work when he created her.

Number 1---love your family, spoil your children, but ridiculously spoil your grandchildren. My mother was the most beautiful and wonderful mother a person could have. She did the best she could after the divorce and I think we all turned out pretty well. But where she really shined was in the “grandmother department’. Nona, as the grandkids call her, was the best grandmother a child could have. She spoiled them rotten and loved them with the fiercest of loves. She taught them so many things and she could spend hours listing their virtues to anyone who would listen. She was devoted to her mother and she loved her brothers and sisters so very much. She was the oldest child and was their second mother since some of them are much younger than she was. Her family, children, siblings, and mother and grandchildren were the light in her life…and she was such a strong light in ours. We will all be a little dimmer without her to shine on.

In closing I want to finish with a story of how all of this got put into perspective for me. Over the last few days I have been told so many things and been given much sympathy and advice. But the true meaning of how I, and those of us who loved her, are to carry on were best expressed by Connally Dull. Connally is the sweet 3 year old daughter of my good friends Christy and John Dull. I left the Dulls, Connally, and her 2 sisters at my house to go and sign the papers to release my mother’s body to the funeral home. The Dulls said they would stay to answer the phone and the door while George and I were gone. When I stepped back into the house I began to cry once again. Connally looked up at me with her beautiful big eyes and opened her sweet mouth and said “Why you crying? Your mommy in HEAVEN!” I couldn’t have said it better myself…Sometimes it takes a child to put things in perspective.

I love you all…

Inspiration Song: "Together Again" by Janet Jackson...because some day I know I will be with my mother again when this life of mine is complete...the words always always always remind me of my mom...I just think of the word "Mommy" instead of "baby"

Lyrics

There are times
When I look above
And beyond
There are times when I feel your love
Around me baby
I'll never forget my baby
(I'll never forget you)

There are times when I look above and beyond
There are times when I feel your love around me baby
I'll never forget my baby

When I feel that I don't belong
Draw my strength
From the words when you said
Hey it's about you baby
Look deeper inside you baby

Dream about us together again
What I want us together again baby
I know we'll be together again cuz

Everywhere I go
Every smile I see
I know you are there
Smilin back at me
Dancin in moonlight
I know you are free
Cuz I can see your star
Shinin down on me

Good times we'll share again
(together again, ooh)
Makes me wanna dance
(together again, ooh)
Say it loud and proud
(together again, ooh)
All my love's for you

Always been a true angel to me
Now above
I can't wait for you to wrap your wings around me baby
Oooh wrap them around me baby

Sometimes hear you whisperin
No more pain
No worries will you ever see now baby
I'm so happy for my baby

Dream about us together again
What I want us together again baby
I know we'll be together again cuz

Everywhere I go
Every smile I see
I know you are there
Smilin back at me
Dancin in moonlight
I know you are free
Cuz I can see your star
Shinin down on me

Good times we'll share again
(together again, ooh)
Ooh it makes me wanna dance
(together again, ooh)
Say it loud and proud
(together again, ooh)
All my love's for you

There are times when I look above and beyond
There are times when I feel you smile upon me baby
I'll never forget my baby

What I'd give just to hold you close
As on earth
In heaven we will be together baby
Together again my baby

Everywhere I go
Every smile I see
I know you are there
Smilin back at me
Dancin in moonlight
I know you are free
Cuz I can see your star
Shinin down on me

Bye Darlings...stay safe...and one day we will all be together again...both here and in heaven...

Dare Me

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 17 Feb 2020 04:24:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

If you follow me on social media you know that in November things really went sideways for me...

so here's an update on what is going on in the land of #teamunicorn and how the last few months went down...and ironically all of this happened right at the 3 year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis...

So a few months ago I started to have some sciatica issues...I expected it and wasn't surprised when it happened but the pain was really bothering me and I got a bit worried...and as always I worried that it was El Diablo rearing his ugly head and so it scared me.

Because when you have cancer EVERY LITTLE THING makes you worry if it's not as it should be...

you get a sinus infection---you worry...

you have gut issues---you worry...

you get a headache---you worry...

you get sick---you worry...

you have pain---you really worry...

Last summer I battled a major kidney infection and several UTI's...plus the stuff with my back...but then I had a scan and it wasn't a "scare the crap out of me and the doc" scan so I thought I was in the clear. The kidney infection had cleared up and other than my back hurting a bit I was doing good...and I was really feeling strong in my yoga practice.

In fact I had found a renewed love for yoga...I was literally craving it and I would sometimes practice 2 hours a day if my schedule allowed me. I couldn't get enough yoga and each practice made me feel stronger and I was starting to find more balance and flexibility.

Yoga was doing my body some real good...

But then my foot blew up...

it went from a cute size 8 to a Bilbo Baggins hobbit foot over the course of a weekend...

seriously it was so big and fat I was waiting for it to sprout hair and I wondered if I could even get a shoe on it...

but I knew what was happening---lymphedema.

My poor lymph nodes that serve my left leg are the ones with cancer in them...and after 3 years of cancer and all the chemo I have poisoned them with they were tired...

and once you have lymphedema it is irreversible and incurable...you have it forever...it won't go away...

so lets add that to the list of things cancer and cancer treatment has taken from me or done to me:

complete hysterectomy
removal of several lymph nodes
hernia
weakened spine due to radiation
weight gain due to steroids
gut issues due to radiation
neuropathy in hands and feet due to chemo (they tingle non stop)
spinal fusion due to weakened spine
compromised immune system due to chemo
low hemoglobin due to chemo
low red blood cell count due to chemo
knees that are bone-on-bone and can't be fixed because I can't stop chemo
lymphedema in left leg due to chemo/cancer
slammed into menopause due to cancer
inablility to take HRT because of cancer
kidney issues due to chemo
sciatica

so yes---the fun addition to my health was not welcome...because lymphedema means that I will have to wear compression garments for the rest of my life.

I can't wait for August when I have to be in full compression tights...that's gonna be a lot of fun...

So I began therapy for the lymphedema (and had to drive to Sugarland for it since the location close to me was fully booked until December) and began the process of having to bandage my leg from toes to thigh each day and sleep like that and wear some sort of compression garment during the day.

And it's so fun when you are already hot at night to have a leg that has 4 layers of bandaging materials on it...

I'd had a scan November 11 and the results were---mixed...

but things didn't look too bad other than some lymph nodes growing and others shrinking. And there was some kidney stuff that I had no clue what it meant. The day I got the scan results I was at lymphedema therapy so my therapist and I did a little dance around the room in celebration...

but then while doing my therapy my therapist noticed that I was limping and having issues with my left hip.

I had noticed a weakening in my hip flexors in general but by early November I was really struggling to get into a bridge pose.

ding
ding
ding
ding

Congratulations Anice! You have been gifted with yet another medical issue...

I wrote it off but noticed that after yoga my back felt better but then it would get worse again...and finally on November 17 I had a day where I couldn't really get out of my chair...my back hurt...

so I did the sensible thing...

I went to yoga!

After class I went to my car and each step was excruciating...and it felt like my car was getting further and further away with each step.

I got home, unloaded my groceries I picked up, fixed dinner (all while having to sit down every 3 minutes) and cleaned the fish bowl...and when I finally collapsed into my bed after my shower I knew I was in trouble.

And dammit it was my birthday week.

I had all sorts of plans of special birthday spin classes and some very special yoga classes and a get together with some of my best girlfriends.

But with me when I make plans---

God
says
"Ha!"

So Monday the 18th of November I packed a bag with Aunt Jane's help (along with me having to literally crawl on the floor because I couldn't walk without horrific pain) and we headed to chemo...although I knew all along I was going into the hospital and not chemo.

I called Dr Rockstar's office and asked if a nurse could meet me with a wheelchair and when Sweet Jackie wheeled me into the cancer center all my peeps there knew I was in trouble.

When Dr Rockstar came into the exam room I told her "Happy 3 year anniversary! For your gift from me I give you a confusing scan and my inability to walk!!!!"

She didn't like her gift...

in fact she asked if she could return it...

I had planned to bring cupcakes and unicorn things and have a little party with her and Dr. Sweetmeds and my chemo nurses but my pesky back made that impossible---and she laughed that only me would think that being her patient for 3 years was a reason to celebrate but hey the woman is a goddess and amazing and she has kept me alive.

So she looked at me and said "no chemo for you! you are going across the street to the hospital!" and I told her I was one step ahead of her and my bag and pillow were in Jane's car because I knew things weren't right. And she was putting me on my favorite floor (yes, I have a favorite floor---I've been there enough) and with my favorite nurses (and yes I've been there enough that all my nurses know who I am).

The good news through all of this was that 8 weeks before my spine went out of whack the powers that be that decide such things had declared that Uterine cancer patients with certain types of tumors could now go on immunotherapy with Keytruda and a drug called Lenvina and that I qualified. She figured it was a good time to make the switch and Dr Sweetmeds was already working with my insurance company to provide me with the necessary drugs.

I honestly feel like this is the miracle I have been praying for...but at that time back in November my biggest challenge was to get my spine fixed.

Dr Rockstar called the neurosurgeon's office and they sent me across the street to the hospital, put me in a room and tried to get an iv started because they had to get me into the MRI with contrast and my port can't do that.

I warned the nurses I was a "hard stick" and they promised to get my port accessed ASAP but at that moment I had to get the iv in so he tried once on the left arm and the vein immediately blew (and it hurt).

They decided to go after my one good vein in the inside of my right elbow and got it to work. Not a great place for an iv but I wasn't willing for them to go poking at my hands at that point.

Into the MRI I went. The tech there remembered that I had been the woman who slept through the machine breaking down twice the year before with me in it completely asleep (thank you Adavan and Ambien). This time I just had the Adavan (because I can't get into an MRI without it) and dozed while the machine banged away to reveal what was wrong...

Unbeknownst to me Dr Rockstar and Dr Spine were each thinking the other had a big problem on their hands---Rockstar felt it was my spine and Dr Spine thought it was cancer.

Rockstar won...or is it lost? In any case she was right and I was Dr Spine's problem at that point...

I had compressed my L4/L3 disk so much it had formed synovial cysts...and it was causing spinal stenosis and a lot of other problems mostly nerve related.

and all you need to know about that was that it meant spinal fusion surgery for me once again...

Color me very pissed off...

So they hooked me up with some pain meds and tried to schedule me for surgery for the next day.

I prepped for surgery, drank my Gatorade to keep me hydrated, ate a carb loaded dinner and got to know my wonderful nurse Ericka.

Woke up the next morning with my very favorite resident Dr Neurostunning (gorgeous and smart as hell and badass) gently shaking my arm to wake me to sign papers (and she had her #teamunicorn bracelet on for me!). Aunt Jane and I waited and when 3:00 came and I hadn't been taken down for surgery I knew I wasn't going to get cut on that day.

Dr Spine came and in and told me that we likely wouldn't get me to an OR until 8:00 pm that night.

He and I decided that we didn't like that plan.

So it was rescheduled for the next day.

Happy 55th birthday to me!

To make the day better they moved me into the Princess Suite on that floor and let me keep my nurses. I had a room large enough to throw a rave in...

Ericka came on shift and says:

"Girlfriend---where is your dinner tray?"

oops...I had forgotten to order dinner...

So Ericka being the goddess she is used her break time to go down to the cafeteria to get me dinner and more Gatorade (I had read that Gatorade helped your body prep better for surgery so I was chugging it).

I was really having a great big morphine pity party for myself that night because I had missed my birthday ride at Revolution with Marvelous Mel. Cried my eyes out when they sent a video of them singing "I wanna dance with somebody" for me...

and then I found out my friend's house burned down and they lost their pets.

At that point I stopped feeling sorry for myself and cried for them...

I had surgery the next day and I definitely plan to do something different next year on my birthday...because I do not recommend having your spine rebuilt as a birthday gift.

I woke up in recovery and did so well that my nurse was surprised (thank you Gatorade) and maybe it helped that I had relented about them giving me morphine...

I had amazing nurses while I was there...so many of them had cared for me previously that they feel like dear old friends. I got to have my favorite nurse Mimi care for me twice and sweet Lorena made my post surgical nights much better. Adam was my hero by accessing my port for me and making sure I felt loved and cared for and...well...I could go on and on but I'll just say that 3 Jones at Memorial Hermann has angels working there...

The next day my incredible doctors gave me a little birthday party in my room complete with Crave cupcakes and unicorn gifts lovingly selected by Dr Sweetmeds and her adorable daughter.

Read that again: my doctors gave me a birthday party...

I have the best doctors in the whole world...God put me with Dr Rockstar and Dr Sweetmeds because He knows I need attention...

and the nurses sang to me and honestly as awful as it was to be in a hospital recovering from having my spine fixed it wasn't the worst way to spend my birthday...

ok maybe it was the worst way to date but they made it much less awful than it could have been.

I can't say the same for the food there...

I had to stay several days recovering and the last night I was there sweet Chizo---my favorite Nurse Tech---came in and asked if I would like to have a bath.

Since I couldn't do it alone, and hadn't had a "good" bath since Wednesday morning I was very happy to accept her kind offer.

She lovingly bathed me in a way that I can only describe as the loving care one woman gives another...I cried with her kindness and the gentle way she made sure I stayed warm and clean. Sweet Elysee, the other nurse tech, came in and changed my bed and they helped me into a clean gown and brushed my hair and then tucked me in.

I cried after they turned off the light because I knew that that simple act of helping me bathe was more than just a bath. It was their way of saying "you are cared for" and it was so much better than the sponge bath I had the previous day. For a woman who usually bathes/showers twice a day it was very much desired.

I finally got out of the hospital after 6 days in and was so happy when Aunt Jane brought me home and Fabulous Vicki brought me my much craved for Popeye's fried chicken. The next day Aunt Jane and GOTTESS (aka Sistah Wife) helped me shower and changed my bandages and I got on to the healing and recovery part of the process.

The holidays came and went and thanks to family and friends I got to have my turkey, had friends trim my tree for me (that was a very fun night) and I got busy working on "Crazy For You" costumes since we had a show in early February.

And here I am 3 months later and I am still recovering.

The lymphedema still plagues me (and always will) but I now have a pump I use every night to help push the fluid through my body so that the leg doesn't swell up to elephant size. It swells some but sometimes it swells more and it hurts. But I am grateful for the pump...

I can't manage to bend over without holding on to something. My spine is weak and the simple act of picking something up from the ground or putting food in the cat's bowl results in me shaking and sometimes falling over.

I still need a walker to go any distance and I can't stand for very long.

My left leg is still suffering from nerve damage so I can't really pick it up or move it without my helping it. I can't step up on a curb or step on my left leg or my leg will buckle out from under me. The nerves are very very slowly trying to heal but this is taking so much longer than I planned.

I hate having to use a walker but these days I have no choice. I'm still a little unsteady and my right knee is so bone on bone that if I stand for more than a few minutes I pretty much can't walk after that. I desperately need a knee replacement. In fact I am pretty overdue for one but I can't because of the cancer and the need for chemo...

and speaking of chemo...

That miracle that I mentioned above? The Keytruda and Lenvima?

I AM ON IT NOW AND IT SEEMS TO BE HELPING!!!

I had a rough few weeks adjusting to the chemo pill (the Lenvima) and my blood pressure skyrocketed and caused me issues but we finally got me on a dosage that I can manage. Poor Dr Sweetmeds had to put up with endlessly texting me to make sure I was ok and not going to have a stroke from my blood pressure. It makes me fatigued but I am used to that.

My CA125 was 150 when I went into the hospital in November and last week it was down to 40 after 2 months of Lenvima and 4 doses of Keytruda.

It is the miracle I have prayed for.

I will have a scan sometime in the next month or so and we will know more but for now Dr Rockstar and Dr Sweetmeds tell me I am doing better than they had hoped for so I think that is a good sign.

So even though I have been through a lot I am so grateful that my biggest issue---cancer---is being managed and maybe even have a chance at a longer life...

So there you go---that's what I have been through since November 17. And in the middle of all of it I spent 6 days a week for 6 weeks working on a show where my kids were incredible and I got to use some gorgeous costumes designed by my friend DesignerDee. Her work is so beautiful and it was an honor to get to use the costumes for my kids and they did her proud. I had a team of moms who helped me so much that I honestly could not have gotten it all on stage without their help. They were my angels...

And tomorrow, for the first time since November I am going to climb on a spin bike and ride.

I've missed getting to sweat and work out. I miss yoga so much it hurts but given my nerve damage and spine situation that might have to wait.

I'm scared shitless to get on that bike tomorrow.

I'm not even sure I can get on without help and I know I will need some help to get off.

But I'm going to do it.

Because I can't keep being afraid to try.

When I am confronted with a challenge I used to hide from it or avoid it as long as I could. But cancer has changed that and when a boulder is put in my path I just walk around it instead of stopping myself and giving up.

The other day I had lunch with a man who is like a father to me. He has watched me grow from being a spoiled teenager into the woman I am now. I told him that the girl he met when I was so young is so different from the woman I am today. Not just because I have grown up but mostly because that girl would have just cried and given up if she had to face the things that my grown up self has fought through.

Cancer has made me grow and appreciate things that I would not have appreciated even 5 years ago.

Cancer has robbed me of a lot.

But I have also gained so much.

And as hard as it has been to face this cancer the things I have gone through have toughened me but not made me hard to the world.

I'd have loved to have not had cancer. Or at least had a cancer that surgery alone had cured. Or surgery and radiation. Or surgery and a 6 round protocol of chemo had fixed. Or that chemo and radiation had gotten rid of.

But I have stage 4.

So all of that helped but didn't get rid of it.

But maybe, just maybe this new stuff will.

I am a pioneer with it. There are some women who have been in the trials and they are doing better. And some of the ladies who started when I did are showing great promise.

So maybe God is going to keep me here longer thanks to these drugs...

And God keeps giving me the challenges I keep facing as a way to show me that He is with me.

Because it is my faith that assures me each night when I take those pills that God has tempered me like fine chocolate.

When you temper something you improve the consistency, durability or hardness of a substance by heating and cooling it.

When you temper chocolate you heat it gently until it becomes smooth and glossy and by doing so you prevent it from the dullish appearance it can get and it gives it a better texture.

So I think of myself as some very fine dark chocolate---and with all I have gone through God is slowly warming me up to improve me. He stirs me and keeps me over a gentle simmer. And once I have reached the point He wants me at He will pour me out and I will be shiny and lovely.

And sometimes when tempering you have to continue to heat the chocolate until you get it to the right point.

I think now I have been through so much that maybe--just maybe--I might be ready to be poured out and will be silky and smooth and have a nice snap! (and sadly my "bend and snap" days might be behind me thanks to my spine...)

I know I have been through a lot but I also have friends who have greater challenges than me...friends who have lost their child...friends who have lost their partner...friends who have lost their home and fur babies...friends who have lost their life...

Me---I'm just a woman who has faced some challenges in the course of her life and those challenges have molded me into who I am.

Hell I am a damn chocolate unicorn and I am one of a kind...

So now when God puts me into the heat to smooth me out and I have to face things because of it I feel like asking if He is daring me to go further and try harder...

Because if I am the kind of woman who can have spinal fusion surgery and 2 months later fully costume a show with 63 kids I think I can do a lot more than I ever imagined I could do. It might have taken me borrowing things from a friend, using a walker and losing sleep but by golly I did what I needed to do.

There was a night I was so tired I forgot that my last name was no longer my married name (true story---I literally forgot one night that my last name was my maiden name now because I was so damn tired I could not think).

Make my knee so bad that I can't walk and I'll just use a walker...

Give me a new drug that makes me tired and messes with my blood pressure and I'll just swallow the pills and find strength inside myself to push on...

Fuse my spine and I'll just find a way to bend over anyway...

Because you see if you dare me I'll take you on...

Go ahead...dare me...

I've got my own strength and all of you...

I'll take it on and win...

every
damn
time

Inspiration Song: "Dare Me" by the Pointer Sisters...a longtime favorite and every time I am faced with a challenge I play it and sing along and I'm kinda hoping my bae ChampagneAndCycle will play it for me the next time he is inspiring me in class to go a little harder and faster on the bike...

lyrics:

I've got a chip on my shoulder with you name on it
Knock it off
So don't just stand there foolin' if you don't want it
Knock it off
I say you're either a lover or you are a liar
So don't you push too hard
You're playin' with fire

Baby, make your move
Step across the line
Touch me one more time
Come on, dare me
I want to take you on
I know I can't lose
I'll be loving you if you just dare me

Looks like you're lookin' for trouble
And I'd say you found it
You found it
You'll have to come right through me
There's no way around it
You found it
I hope that lean hungry look means what it's saying
'Cause I'm just sittin' on ready, ready and waiting

Baby, make your move
Step across the line
Touch me one more time
Come on, dare me
I want to take you on
I know I can't lose
I'll be loving you if you just dare me

Come on and dare me

Bye Darlings...I dare myself to take myself on...and I will win...

If We Have Each Other

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 01 Jan 2020 05:08:00 +0000

I'm gonna take a break from talking about me, me, me in this blog---ok there will be some "me" here but I'm not gonna talk about what has happened with El Diablo right now...maybe tomorrow...maybe next week...but I want to talk about other stuff...because medically I am a hot damn mess and I need a break from it...so look for a blog (maybe tomorrow) that is my usual year end summary and I'll fill you in on El Diablo and my latest nemsis The Devil Drug Lenvima and my Stupid Spine...so here we go...

Hello Darlings...

2019 is coming to a close...end of a year and a decade.

it was one of a lot of change for me but I'm not gonna go into that today...it can wait...I feel like sharing feelings tonight and not my latest medical battle.

But there is one thing this decade has taught me---that being alone is hard.

You need family...and friends...and friends who are family...and for me I need #teamunicorn...

Today was a perfect example of needing my team...my car wouldn't start.

After a call to my service guy at the dealership we concluded my battery was dead/dying.

So Marvelous Megan came over and Valiant Vicki and her daughter KuteKaelyn arrived as well. Megan had a jump start thing that we tried to no avail...and just as we were about to push my car into the driveway to try to jump it (don't worry those of you who know my medical situation I was not pushing) I realized

I HAD FORGOTTEN TO PUT THE KEY FOB IN THE CAR...

yes, I am brilliant...

let's blame chemo brain...I get to ride that train for a little while longer...

so once the fob was in the car the charger thing worked like a champ and I got the car to the dealership and a new battery in and V and K took me to lunch while they were working on the car...

but I couldn't have done it without those ladies...

friends who show up for you are the best...

because when you take a moment to go out of your way for a friend in need you are an angel...

and lately I have needed a lot of angels...

and speaking of angels---let's talk about nurses.

My nurses and doctors are the best.

I'll fight you on this one...I have the BEST nurses and doctors in my life.

The best..

None better.

And the very best nurses are at the Memorial Hermann Cancer Center and at Memorial Hermann The Medical Center 3 Jones.

Well actually all nurses are angels---these are just the ones that help me.

And Dr Rockstar and Dr Sweetmeds are the most amazing cancer doctors.

Ok so I'll talk a little about what has happened with me...for those that don't know I ended up having spinal surgery on my birthday.

Happy Birthday to me...

But my nurses and doctors were so kind...they gave me a birthday party in the hospital...complete with cupcakes and presents and morphine...

Dr Sweetmeds and her daughter even went shopping and bought me unicorn treasures...

And all of my nurses were so amazing---they so lovingly cared for me.

Amazing Adam stayed after his shift TWICE to access my port so my veins would not have to suffer the morphine and antibiotics.

Marvelous Mimi came in on her day off to help out under the condition that I was her patient. I've been her patient almost every time I have been in the hospital. She is my sister from another mister.

Extraordinary Ericka not only was super fun and helpful but even went to the cafeteria for me when we discovered that I had forgotten to order dinner and room service was closed. Yes...she used her break to go get me a burger and Gatorade. She is a goddess.

Lovely Lorena was new to the floor...we bonded over the long nights post surgery...and when I gave her a #teamunicorn bracelet she cried...

Helpful Henrietta took tender care of me...she's a nun and marvelous...and every time she starts her shift she comes into my room and rearranges it while she sings a happy tune...she likes everything "just so" and as I watch her move chairs around and tidy up the room I'm reminded that wellness doesn't just happen in a hospital bed. And that Disney needs to make her into a Nun Princess who sings happy tunes while she works...

Super Sierra and Helpful Hawa were stuck with me the most and we laughed and cried through it all...

and Reliable Rex, who has had me several times as his patient, asked to be my nurse so we could have some laughs again...

and perhaps the kindest of all was sweet Cheerful Chizo and Extraordinary Elysee who tenderly bathed me and changed my bed linens and dressed me and tucked me into bed with hugs when I could not do any of that for myself...the act of kindness of her lovingly pouring water over me and washing me was an act of service I shall never forget and I hope some day to bring her a gift to thank her (but I don't want to be a patient when I do it).

All of those beautiful humans took loving care of me just like they do all of their patients...I'm just so blessed to have them in my life.

It's not fun to empty a catheter bag or wake up a patient at 4 am for vitals but they did it in the gentlelest and most loving manner...and not once did I feel ashamed or stressed (ok maybe the morphine and dilaudid helped with that).

And my chemo nurses: Dawn, Ledi, Kim, Haley, Andrea, Sammi, Aaron, Maria, and a few my tired brain are forgetting are incredible as are my nurses that help my doctors, especially sweet Jackie.

Without them this journey would be so awful...but they make me feel special...like I count...like they care and love me...just as I care about and love them.

Recently I had an experience that reminded me that sometimes we touch lives in ways we never expect or know. Sometimes we matter to someone who may not necessarily be friend or family but is someone you interact with that thinks more of you than you know...

I frequent the Whataburger by my house enough that I have made friends with Radiant Raphael. I'll call her RaRa. We chat when the order line allows and a few years ago I told her I have cancer. She's a doll and she always is smiling and cheerful. But I went on a diet and gave up my Whata and my Diet Dr Pepper's so I hadn't been to that Whata since March.

I pulled up and paid. RaRa wasn't working the line that day. But she was there.

And she saw me through the window...

And she screamed...

And ran outside...

and opened my car door to jump in and hug me...

with tears streaming down her face...

because she thought the worst had happened to me since she hadn't seen me...

her loving and caring brought me to big ugly tears...

I mean a very ugly cry...

because this incredibly sweet lady cared enough about me...she has hundreds of people she helps and serve each day and yet she had noticed I wasn't there...and it affected her.

We go through our days in such a hurry sometimes we don't always see the ways we affect the others we interact with.

Whenever I go through the line I always ask for her and say hello if she's not working the line...so I notice HER and I am grateful she notices ME...

It's all just a reminder that we need to take the time to get to know the people that God puts into our paths...

So when you find a server at a restaurant you like ask to be seated in their section (your tip might be what let's them pay for insurance that month)...

or when someone gives you great service at a store, or the hospital, or like today at the dealership for my car write an email to let their boss know they made a differance...their boss might do something in return for them doing a good job (I know this for a fact as far as the hospital goes...)

fill out that survey that asks you how someone did...it might get them more pay...

tell the cashier checking out your groceries that her hair looks cute...because she may have gone 5 hours on her feet with no one saying something nice...

for years now my Marvelous Mel always makes us say hello to the person next to us on our bikes before we start spin class...over the years the people next to me are some of the dearest humans in my life.

3 years ago when I was about to start chemo they were the ones who all showed up in matching t-shirts with my name on them and had a celebratory lunch with me...

we laugh, we cry, we drink, we eat and we love each other as a little tribe of humans who are very happy that we sat next to each other on a bike.

One of that tribe has moved far across the ocean and tomorrow I get to see her once again before she heads back...we connected the day I sobbed on my bike thinking about my mom and it moved her to tears and moved her enough to call her own mom just to tell her she loved her...and I miss her each time she goes back but I'm grateful that despite a time difference i know she is just a message away...and I love her dearly...

one of that tribe presents a tough front but I know deep inside she's a sweet marshmallow and is a very loving woman who cares and loves her friends deeply...and I have a very soft blanket to prove it...and she makes me smile and laugh and I love her...

one of that tribe has confirmed his true gender and it has been an honor to watch his transition...I love him and I'm honored to have been a small part of his journey as I supported him from the minute he said he was going to be his true self...

one of that tribe is our social director and can always be counted on to bring us together and to keep us informed about when another needs some extra love...and she never fails to give me things to remind me I am strong---even if it is just a coffee cup (but a coffee cup I must drink from each time I have chemo)...and each time I hold one of the special coffee cups she has given me in my hands I am reminded that she loves me and I love her...

and one of those beautiful humans is a woman I admire so much for her loving heart...and years ago we began a little tradition of whenever we were in yoga and could be next to each other we would lay in savassanah and hold hands (and often cry) knowing that we are two Mamas in this world who have found another woman who feels the same feels...and I do love her and her children so very much...

I've met so many incredible people at Revolution that I feel blessed to just be a part of the tribe...instructors who have become family to me...staff that are real friends...fellow riders/yogis that are very much a part of my life.

So that girl next to you sweating it out on the elliptical? Say hi and tell her she's doing great...

that guy next to you on the treadmill? smile...he might be your next date...

that lady who always seems to end up next to you at yoga? maybe God has her do so so you can become friends...

not just when we workout...but in every day life...a little kindness and a smile might just be what that person ahead of you in the grocery line needs that day.

One of the people who is dearest to me used to work for my radiology oncologist. I went in there and sat around that waiting room so much we went from friendly to friends. She's important to me. I love her. Dr Angel might not ever realize that he helped me not only by putting me on the radiation table but also because he hired an angel to sit behind the desk and greet his patients. She's my sister of my heart...because the very first day I went in there she knew that the silly woman in glittery shoes was scared and needed someone to be cheerful and kind.

My dear Sweet Suzanne has been my friend since we were little girls at camp. And yesterday she took me to get my Keytruda infusion and cried with me while I talked to my doctor about how much I want to survive this. Her tears told me how much I matter to her...and how much she matters to me...

I have friends I've met recently and dear old friends who have known me a long long time...and I need all of them in my life.

I've had to learn to accept help and let my friends help me when they want to help me and not just be the person who tries to help everyone else.

I haven't been much good at helping others the last few years because I have been so in need myself.

I've had to be selfish in ways I never imagined I could be because of my illness.

I've had to put myself first at times I didn't want to.

But all of you have been there...

you are all #teamunicorn

When we are there for each other we are there for ourselves...

I've said before we are all given mountains to climb...but isn't it nicer when we have others on that same mountain with us helping us to make that climb?

When we face those mountains it's nice to have a sherpa or a guide...or just someone who will say "can I hold your backpack for you while we climb the next 100 feet?"

I don't need a team to cheer me...I need a team to cheer WITH...

So as I close this chapter of another year of my life I want to thank each and every one of you who prays for me, checks on me, drives me, picks me up and takes me places, sits with me in a waiting room, reads this blog or my silly FB posts, visits me when I am lonely, sends me texts to lift me up, hugs me, and makes room for me in your heart...

I can't do life alone...if I tried I would fail by day 2...

so love ALL the people around you and reach out and help someone because one day they will surely help you...

we only have each other

God gave us the gift of being able to communicate so we can be there for each other...

friendship is a blessing...

and I am beyond blessed...

Inspiration song: "If We Have Each Other" by Alec Benjamin...beautiful song about being there for each other...and it reminds me of my sweet Dreamy Deanna and I when we lay in savassanah at the end of yoga holding hands knowing that we are there for each other...

some of the lyrics:
The world's not perfect, but it's not that bad
If we got each other, and that's all we have
I will be your lover, and I'll hold your hand
You should know I'll be there for you
When the world's not perfect
When the world's not kind
If we have each other then we'll both be fine
I will be your lover, and I'll hold your hand
You should know I'll be there for you

Bye Darlings---when the world's not perfect and the world's not kind just know I'm there and we'll both be fine...thank you for holding my hand when I need it...even if it is just a virtual hand hold...

I Never Knew Love Like This Before

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 27 Aug 2019 02:24:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...I had a scan the other day and then saw Dr. Rockstar today. I'll get to the results of the scan and what she said in a bit---yes, I am going to make you patiently wait and read all the garbage that is in my head before I tell you what is going on with El Diablo...so make yourself comfy and buckle up...

A few weeks ago when I was low I posted something on social media saying I was struggling really badly after chemo.

And you people came through for me...you sent me messages of love and support, you wrote comments that made me feel loved and stronger...the people in my life showed up for me and for that I am so grateful.

No warrior can go to battle alone---you can't fight all the giants without others to fight along with you and I'm so blessed to have friends and family who show up with their swords and pikes and fight along with me by keeping me safe and strong with their loved.

You have to have people who SHOW UP FOR YOU.

And you people show up in a big big way!

I can't thank you enough---because it is very easy for me to feel alone since I live alone, my kids are elsewhere, I don't have a man in my life and all I have is 3 cats to talk to and they are very sassy and unhelpful because they only want to be fed and petted.

I know I whine a lot about being alone and without love in my life.

I do truly feel the love you all give me and the support.

And as a dear old friend wonderfully pointed our the true loves of my life are my kids.

But I do get lonely...and many who tell me to "look at all the love you get from friends" have a spouse, partner, boyfriend or girlfriend, or are happy to NOT have a partner.

It's not the same.

And fearing that I might die without every knowing what real love feels like is a real fear that many of you can't relate to because you have love in your lives AND you aren't fighting an incurable disease.

So you only get to judge my struggle if you are single AND fighting to live.

So that's maybe 2% of you...cause most of you have somebody or you are not actively in a cancer battle...

for those of you in the same boat as me YOU GET IT...

Otherwise---set your judgement of me aside and think for a moment how it would feel for you to be told "you have stage 4 cancer" and NOT have the person you love at your side.

for 8 years now I have been alone...one relationship that lasted about 6 months when I was first divorced and then nothing...

Not
One
Date

Not one...

So PLEASE stop telling me that I have the love and support of all of my friends and that that should be enough.

Because it's not...

I do not want to die without being in love just once before I draw my last breath.

My first marriage was not a loving supportive healthy one...I got two great kids out of it but not a relationship with their father that was a good one.

I was so ready to invite in love and then I got sick.

So I have been in this battle without love or someone to say "it's ok" when I am crying in the middle of the night from pain or fright...the cats could care less if I am crying as long as I don't roll over onto one of them...otherwise...pffffft....I do get some rather good side eye from Angel but she's sassy like that.

So I'm alone and right now I'm not sure if that is EVER going to change but I hope it will.

Because I am fighting to live and I would really like to not spend so many nights alone in my chair...watching Bachelor in Paradise (and maybe we should dissect exactly why I am wasting 4 hours a week on that show...)

I've been blessed beyond belief to have my Aunt Jane and some other sweet friends who have been there for me when I have had surgery or chemo...I could have not handled all of this without them.

And I could not have made it this far without the love and support and faith of all of you who are part of #teamunicorn

honestly I could not do it.

From the beginning, when I knew there was something wrong inside my body, I never imagined ever ever ever that I was going to hear the words "you have uterine cancer".

But I did.

And then I did the only thing I could...I fought...

I got my diagnosis and about 10 days later I was in surgery having all of my female organs cut out of me.

All of them.

But the cancer had spread and these damn lymph nodes in my pelvis (and later in my neck) had cancer but could not be removed because they are too close to the aorta.

And I like my aorta.

And there isn't a surgeon out there who wants to try to remove them.

They seem to have an aversion to operating on a patient who might bleed out on the table if you accidentally nick her with a scalpel.

So those lymph nodes have been absolute jackasses of lymph nodes and have caused all sorts of trouble and despite giving me enough radiation where I should basically glow in the dark and enough poison to take down a dozen horses they still have cancer in them.

So every other week---until science can find a new drug that kills my form of cancer---I get poisoned just so it won't grow.

If I look at Dr. Google I see that I don't have much of a shot at being here in a few years and I probably shouldn't buy a new car because I might not get to drive it very long.

That's what Google says.

I say "not today El Diablo".

Because you know what I have that Google doesn't know about?

My faith and the faith of all of you.

I have #teamunicorn to pray for me and pick me up when I am crawling on the ground and can't go on.

So I pray...and every time I do the first thing I do is thank God. And then I tell him to please use me to teach my doctors how to save other women. Because I want to be an instrument of change and wellness.

And then I do every damn thing I can to make my body a healthy machine so I can fight this stuff.

I recently found a wellness program called the FASTer Way to Fat Loss. I've lost some weight but more importantly my blood pressure is down and I finally don't feel like crap 28 days out of 30 each month. I won't go into it here but message me if you want to know more because one of the main components of it is intermittent fasting and Dr. Rockstar thinks it is a good idea for me. There is some evidence it might help my body get stronger to fight this damn stuff.

I've had so many people tell me "but you don't look sick" or "I can't believe you have Stage 4 cancer because you look so good"...or they think because I can climb on a spin bike I'm not that sick...

Trust me...I have Stage 4 incurable cancer.

It hasn't gone away.

I have it...I just have hair and I'm fat so I don't look sick.

But I'm just as sick or maybe sicker than those women you see with no hair or who are bone thin.

Skinny and bald are not the only signs of illness.

Trust me I'd love to have lost weight through all of this but the combination of menopause + steroids = fat me.

And I also take it as a great compliment when people say it...because I know they say it because they are used to seeing cancer patients in a different light. And when I am in the Cancer Center and I see so many people who are so much sicker than me I see why they say that.

But I decided from the start that I wasn't doing this cancer stuff in the way that other do...I was going to do it my way. And I'm blessed that i found an oncologist who is so on board with that that she lets me do all the crazy things I want to do.

Today I was in the chemo chair at 3:30.

And then I was on a spin bike at 5:30.

Because I am a badass. (and because I desperately missed my spin instructor the Marvelous Mel---perhaps I have mentioned her about 3467 times...)

And I got on that bike to prove that I can't let cancer stop me from doing anything unless I let it.

My spine on the other hand has its own ideas and it can manage to stop my world...and lately it's been acting up because it thinks El Diablo has gotten too much of my time and energy and it wants to get in and act like one of the bad guys.

sciatica---so much fun....but let's hope it's just that and not another bad disk because frankly I don't have time to deal with more spinal surgery...

God gives us all challenges.

And it's in how we meet them that define us.

There are some challenges that seem like the end of the world until we are faced with a mountain and we had only been looking at hills.

I spent my life with a smooth flat road, the occasional bump, and a few hills.

And then God asked me to climb Everest.

And He said "you can do it"

So I got me some sherpas (my docs and nurses) and gathered all the things to climb and got myself to base camp and literally almost fell apart.

Because base camp was surgery and then chemo.

And you can't get to the next higher camp unless you can acclimate to base camp. You have to survive base camp first.

So I got to the next base camp and had a few more things thrown at me (25 rounds of pelvic radiation, 3 brachy treatments, 30 more rounds of radiation). But I got through it and acclimated. All was well...let's move on to the next camp...

And then I had hernia surgery...and spinal fusion surgery...and the cancer got active again and I had to have chemo again. Surgeries I can get over---you have them, there is pain and then you are done. The chemo going on and on and on and on...that's the hard part.

I felt like crawling back to base camp but i was halfway up the mountain.

And those are those moments when you ask yourself: do I go up or do I go down.

And I had to keep climbing...

and so now I'm still climbing...I think the top is up there somewhere beyond the clouds I just can't see it yet but I know its there.

And for me the top might not ever be that I am declared "No Evidence of Disease"...it might just be that it is managed and I survive for more time.

(And maybe in a year or so I will buy the new car but hey Beyonce the 4 runner is fine so maybe I'll paint my house instead)

But the point being that running back down the mountain would be easy and I need to do hard things so I can get to the summit.

Because up there is a view I haven't seen and I think I need to see what it looks like from the top.

(and no, I will never ever ever climb Everest for real because I hate the cold and heights and sleeping bags and I like hotels)

Life makes us climb places we don't always want to go.

I don't know why God has allowed me to have this disease.

Please note I said "allowed"...

not "given"

not "punished"

but "allowed".

But I know He did because I am going to teach my doctors things about how to treat UPSC and how a cancer patient can do the things we don't think cancer patients can do. And how I can inspire others who are on a cancer journey or just struggling to keep going.

To keep climbing...

To look for the summit and claw your way there if you have to.

So now that I have gotten the stuff that's in my head out here's the part you have been waiting for...

WHAT HAPPENED WITH MY SCAN

First---CT scans are super fun

NOT

But I got to meet up with my imaging buddies Rod and Debbie and I drank the magic potion (barium) and had the iv and we took some images.

And then I went and had a massage and had dinner with Kute Karen 2 who knew I needed a good dose of Flower Child and laughs.

And then the next day as I obsessively checked my portal Sweet Suzanne took me to lunch and I got more laughs and love and began to breathe.

And then I went and did a double yoga class with Heavenly Skye and right after I got into my car I checked the portal again and ran in to hug her...

because as far as my limited medical knowledge was that scan was damn pretty.

So I kept busy and had some more girl time with Vibrant Vicki, Kute Kaelyn and Marvelous Melonie and some excellent wine from CabeRene and a delicious dinner at George's Pastaria that reminded me that I don't get to eat there often enough...(if I sound like a commercial it is because it is---you people should eat there).

And yesterday I flowed with the Marvelous Madonna and had my sweet Divine Deanna next to me and breathing came with a sense of power and strength...just like the yoga class.

But I wanted to wait until today when I saw Dr Rockstar to hear her thoughts on what I thought looked like the kind of scan she might want to put on her refrigerator along with pictures her twins made.

And it turns out that yes, she is damn proud of that scan too...it might just be on her fridge with a magnet...

because those 5 pesky lymph nodes?

they are finally BEHAVING

two have decided to become stable (they aren't NED (no evidence of disease) but they decided not to grow at all). The other 3 grew so slightly she is not even sure there was any real growth but it could have just been the way I was laying on the table or it was measured.

No other metastasis...

there is a kidney stone but we can talk about that later.

What does this mean?

This means despite being down a drug (no more cisplatin) that my body is fighting and holding its own.

I'm not NED...I'm not cured...I still have to have chemo...

but at least for now the cancer seems to be stable and behaving.

Like a dog in it's crate...it might want to get out and run amok but for now it's not actively growing and causing trouble and knocking over things and stealing food...

I'll have chemo every 2 weeks still...

and I'm going to keep on my FASTer Way plan because my blood pressure is lower than it has been since I was diagnosed (I'm hoping to go off the diuretic) and I feel GREAT and I am convinced this plan has something to do with it. (like I said message me to learn more)

I have a happy oncologist...and she hasn't talked to Dr. Angel yet but she's pretty convinced he will be happy when he sees it too...

We did a lot of hugging and crying and laughing today...Dr. Sweetmeds was super happy and she is the one who doses out the poison so I know she is proud that it's working for me.

The biggest thing I have in my corner is my faith in God and the support of all of you.

I could not do this without you.

I can't do it alone and I am so grateful to have all of you to lift me up and do all the the loving things you do to make me feel better and to continue to fight.

When life makes you climb the mountain it's really good to have some people to climb it with you.

I don't have that loving partner in my life...but I do have all of you people and that's more than a lot of people can say.

And who knows...maybe a gambling sort of man will take a chance on a crazy blonde and be willing to climb Everest too...

Thank you all for making me feel so loved and blessed...you people show up deep and strong...and some of you are literally friends who are family to me (too many to name but you peeps know exactly who you are) and I am beyond blessed.

#teamunicorn hit a homerun today---we haven't won the game yet but to me this is a loaded bases homerun...

Love is not just between 2 people.

Love is what you put out in the world with no expectations of getting it back but you show up for others and you do good.

Love is supporting someone when they are so low the can't get up so you carry them.

Love is taking a moment to pray for someone.

Love is easy to give and hard to get....

But love can be found all around you...and you people have surrounded me with so much of it I don't feel I deserve it but I will take it (just like a free dessert at a restaurant). And like that free dessert (which I will eat) I will take what is given to me.

I love you all...now go hit your knees and thank God for what he has done in your life and mine...

Inspiration Song: I Never Knew Love Like This Before by Stephanie Mills....because honestly I never knew so much love until all of you showed it to me and I am especially feeling God's love and I never have felt it more strongly. And because this season on the amazing show Pose (you should be watching) they featured this song in the most incredible way.

lyrics:

I never knew love like this before
Now I'm lonely never more
Since you came into my life

You are my love light, this I know
And I'll never let you go
You my all, you're part of me

Once I was lost and now I'm found
Then you turned my world around
When I need you, I call your name

â??Cause I never knew love like this before
Opened my eyes
â??Cause I never knew love like this before
What a surprise

â??Cause I never knew love like this before

This feeling's so deep inside of me
Such a tender fantasy
You're the one I'm living for

You are my sunlight and my rain
And time could never change
What we share forever more, ooh

I never knew love like this before
Now I'm lonely never more
Since you came into my life

â??Cause I never knew love like this before
Opened my eyes
â??Cause I never knew love like this before
What a surprise

â??Cause I never knew love like this before

You are my love light, this I know
And I'll never let you go
You my all, you're part of me

Once I was lost and now I'm found
Then you turned my world around
When I need you, I call your name

â??Cause I never knew love like this before
Opened my eyes
â??Cause I never knew love like this before
What a surprise

â??Cause I never knew love like this before
Inside of me
I never (Never) knew love like this before
Opened my eyes

Never (Never), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (I never knew, I never knew I never)
Never (Never), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (I never knew, I never knew I never knew)

Never (Never), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (I never knew)
Never (Never knew), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (I never knew)

Never (Never knew), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (I never knew, I never knew I never knew)
Never (I never knew, I never knew), never (I never)
Never knew love like this (Never knew)

Never (Never knew), never (Never)
Never knew love like this (Opened my eyes)
Never (What a surprise)

Bye Darlings---I never knew love like this before...from God and from you!!!!

Breathe (2 AM)

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 05 Aug 2019 03:08:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

Here's an update on me and then we will get to my musings...last time I had chemo it went smoothly but it still hits me hard emotionally each day when I get hooked up to the poison....

It has taken me a while to write this blog...I have started and stopped it any times...I have deleted things and even changed the scope of it. Sometimes my blogs literally write themselves with the words pouring out from my fingers but this time I struggled. And then the other day I realized that I was forcing my writing and not letting it be organic. So here, after months of not writing, is what my heart has unfolded...

Back in April (the day after Easter) I was having chemo as usual except it wasn't chemo as usual---I had an allergic reaction to the chemo drug cisplatin.

I thought it was the kale I was eating.

I honestly want to be allergic to kale because I think it is vile and the only place it belongs is on a salad bar---as the filler to decorate between the bowls.

I was eating lunch and Aunt Jane had looked down to read something and I felt my throat closing up (yup I was eating kale---because I stupidly got the wrong thing to eat...) and my face started to burn.

Sure enough I was having an allergic reaction...

I'll spare you all the details but I will say that if you are ever going into anaphylactic shock you will think you are crazy or having a stroke.

I felt like both...

my nurse pumped me full of steroids and my doctors came running...I couldn't talk (one of the fun things that happened...imagine me---not able to talk!).

Once the steroids did their job I looked at Dr. Rockstar and said:

I'll do anything for your attention!

She gently reminded me that there are better ways to get to see her...like walking down the hall...

I told her it was kale but she vetoed that idea and said it was the cisplatin.

She's always vetoing my ideas---like when I wanted her to also be a plastic surgeon when she did my hysterectomy...or my trying a crazy diet that had a lot of supplements that would have been bad for me...or when I want to have Botox in the middle of a chemo round...or my not wanting to take a pill 3 times a day.

But hey she has all those fancy medical degrees and I put feathers and sequins on people so we will roll with what she says...

And I'll also mention that if your throat is closing up and you are red with the hives it is NOT the time to get up and go to the bathroom (I got fussed at for that).

So the next chemo 3 weeks later I got to load up on steroids and Benadryl the day before (making me tired yet wired) and I got two nurses to myself. The plan was to give me a tiny amount of cisplatin in the first infusion and then give me another bag with more of the drug and then another bag with a higher dilution until they reached my usual level. Dr. Sweetmeds called it a "step up" to see if I could tolerate the drug at all.

Because I kinda sorta maybe probably need the cisplatin.

JayVee was playing wingman that time and she got to experience what I must be like if I was 3 margaritas drunk because they loaded me with Adavan. My nurse pushed it in my port and it hit me like a good night at Club No Minor (an infamous TexMex place with margaritas so strong that you hurt for days if you drink 2).

Apparently I was all kinds of goofy but I can't remember it...and I'm sure JayVee and my nurses were wanting me to just go to sleep and stop being a clown...

Once it appeared I was in the clear (with the last bag with the full strength dilution) I sent JayVee home (because she had hella traffic to face) and I thought I might nap.

But nope...

the cisplatin was not done with me.

20 minutes in to the last bag I started turning red and feeling the itching and yelped for my nurses who had stepped away for a moment (I'm sure to have a much needed break from a woman who was claiming to really be a unicorn...they are used to my nonsense but that day it was nonsense on steroids---literally).

Again chaos ensued, steroids were loaded into me and Dr. Sweetmeds declared that all platinum based chemo drugs are now off the table.

Fabulous...

As a result of all this nonsense I gained 10 pounds thanks to all the steroids and I'm terrified that without that drug the cancer will grow. I am, however, blessed that my nurses were quick and I avoided having to be intubated and hospitalized because at the very moment I felt it coming on I screamed for help.

And that time I didn't eat kale so I guess I am not allergic...but I still think it tastes like dirt and I refuse to eat it....

Dr. Rockstar is optimistic that Gemcitibine alone will keep the cancer from growing and will keep my cancer stable (it won't go away but hopefully won't grow) and now I have to go back to chemo every other week.

It won't cure me but it might give me time...

The good news is that maybe my kidneys won't be damaged (cisplatin can do that) and maybe my neuropathy will improve since I am off it (the tingling and numbness in my fingers and feet is relentless). And with only one drug to infuse each time I am in and out of the cancer center in far less time so that is a plus. And my bone marrow is not being stressed quite as much so maybe my white count will finally get into a normal level.

I have to find some sweet in the bitter with all of this...I can't just let myself be terrified of the bad stuff because that is giving in to El Diablo.

So it's been a crazy few months with the chemo and now I will soon have a scan because we have to see if the Gemcitibine will keep the cancer from growing further.

And now that I have updated you and because I need a therapy session, you get to get inside of my head...

I recently found a meme on social media that said:

"Sometimes you have to let go of the picture of what you thought life would be like and learn to find joy in the story you are living"

Wow...

that is my life...

I always figured that by the time my kids were grown and off to school or on their own I would have a life with the man I loved and we would travel and do hobbies...

But I left the man I was married to because we no longer loved each other in a way that was healthy for us to stay together.

And after my divorce I figured I'd be alone a year or so and then maybe I would find another man to love and I'd have a great life with him.

Basically I imagined that some form of a man who was a combo of Dave Grohl and Bradley Cooper would come along and sweep me off my feet and take me to Italy where my body would suddenly morph into that of one of my spin instructors and I could eat all the pasta I wanted...

Wrong.

Instead I got cancer.

Stage 4 incurable cancer.

There is no man.

And I have cancer.

I've spent enough years alone to know and love myself pretty well so before I was diagnosed I was more than ready to meet someone and get to know what it feels like to be loved.

But that is not the path I am on.

Recently I was driving a dear friend home after spin class and we were discussing life's struggles and how we manage.

As we were driving down a street I noticed that the sidewalk in front of a building we were passing meandered and jogged about and was not a straight path because of trees planted along the street.

There was no way to walk on that sidewalk without having to move left and right---you can't go straight.

I told her that life was like that sidewalk---it's not a straight path but rather one that makes us go different directions to get to the end. We have to move a little right and left to get where we are going.

The path I am on has twisted and turned so much I sometimes forget to move forward because I am too busy moving only right or left to stay on the path.

But it is a path I must go on and I can't change it.

I'd prefer not to have cancer but the truth is I do and nothing will change it.

So I have to face it but the only way to win with it is to not give in to it and to breathe and live.

And find joy in what it is teaching me and bringing me.

I have found joy in simple things now...and much more joy in sharing love and happiness (and food) and truly finding my love for yoga and spin.

There are days I don't want to exercise...but then I think of what a privilege it is that my body still works well enough for me to get on a spin bike or a yoga mat and move.

I could be so sick that I can't do much so I do what I can. And I have learned these past few years that having the ability to move and exercise is something that not everyone in my position can do (my doctors are baffled at my insistence to do yoga and spin but they have given in to my demands that I get to and have discovered that I am better physically and emotionally and mentally because of it).

I've had surgeries that have kept me from being able to exercise---a hysterectomy with a 10 inch vertical incision, a hernia so large it was like a 3rd breast and that needed fixing, and a spinal fusion surgery that was so painful I would not wish it on my worst enemy.

My knees are bone on bone and I need a replacement but I can't stop the chemo long enough to do so (because my body won't heal properly if I am on chemo and I am an infection risk).

and I have sciatica that now makes me feel like I am a grumbly 80 year old man...

But even with my bad knees and bad back I can get on a bike and ride to a beat or I can push my body into a yoga pose and stretch and move with wobbly grace.

There might come a day when I can't do that.

So for now, bad knees and all, I will choose to move.

And I find great joy in it.

Recently I hit the mat and my beautiful yoga instructor, the Heavenly Skye, helped me see that it was more important what I CAN do than what I can't...so I flowed with delight in what I could do and found forgiveness in myself for not doing what I could 2 years (or even a year) ago.

I don't ever need to be able to do Bird of Paradise pose but I do love every wobbly second of stretching into Half Moon and feeling like I am dancing...

I can move...and THAT is what I should be grateful for!

So many times during yoga I find myself in down dog and while I am worrying how my feet need a pedicure I also find my breath and take in the fact that I am there...on my mat...and I am alive...and I probably need a pedicure...

But here I sit whining on my blog about all the bad stuff...but it won't fix my knees, or being alone, or the pain in my hip (back), or cure my cancer...

Because whining never solved anything and me telling you all the things that are currently wrong me doesn't change it.

I can choose to wallow in it or I can choose to stand up and keep fighting.

I struggled recently after one of my chemo infusions feeling like all the "fight" had gone out of me and I just wanted to stay in bed and cry and feel sorry for myself.

I had a full on pity party for myself complete with ticker tape parade and balloons and snow cones...it was gloriously pitiful and I wallowed in it for a few days...I really had the "God you can throw rocks at me but stop with the boulders" mentality...

And while I was battling this depressed state this warrior wanted to lay down her sword and just give in to all the pain and the problems and I felt like I had no real life...just an existence...

But then I realized that I never want to give up and give in.

So I picked up my sword again (after a lot of love and support on social media from many of you) and I cleaned up after the pity party and forged ahead on my path.

Giving up the fight only lets El Diablo win and I fully believe I have a life to live if only science can catch up to me and some attention can be given to my kind of cancer---to help me and the other beautiful women who have UPSC and other cancers (especially gyno cancers).

I have to believe that a cure is possible..and if not a cure a way to contain this cancer so that I can go on living without having to risk my bone marrow and neuropathy.

I have to keep my body strong enough to handle all the poison thrown into me and to be healthy enough to fight off all the opportunistic infections I seem to get due to low immunity.

I can't change what has happened to me...

I have cancer and nothing can or will change it.

So I need to just slow down and breathe and stay as positive as I can.

I try to be happy and positive...I try to not complain about all that is wrong with me all of the time but rather reflect all the things that are RIGHT with me.

But sometimes, like I did a few weeks ago, I have some dark days...

And darkness can swallow you up if you don't start looking for the light---even if the light is from a firefly and not from a lighthouse...

And some days I am a firefly and my light shines sweetly and softly and other days I am a big shiny bright lighthouse with a giant bulb that reaches out into the fog and guides others to safety.

And some days I am just dark...but thankfully those days are few.

Life puts us on a path---it winds and twists...it's dark and light...there is sunshine and tunnels and moments we lift high like balloons and moments we feel we are buried with our troubles, griefs, and bad things...

But we move forward...moving a little left and right when we need to...but in the end we get to our destination.

I'm not on the path I envisioned...

I envisioned one that was certainly straighter, smoother, better lit, with someone by my side...

But that's not my path...

the bumps have made me fall down...

the cracks have swallowed me up at times...

the turns have made me dizzy...

but I am still on the path...

I still go on...

and I am grateful for what this life is teaching me...even if the lessons are so so very hard.

So my friends there you are...this is what has happened in cancer world...and this is why I have struggled to find words to put here for you.

I am walking the path...and I am so lucky that along it I have all of you to join me for the walk...

the path is not straight but we can find our way if we just keep going...

and we breathe...

Inspiration Song: "Breathe 2AM" by Anna Nalick...a song I recently re-discovered and is now played often when I need to remind myself that things don't always go as we planned...the last part of the song hits very heavily with me and I truly feel her words are what I want to say...

There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
But you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

Two AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
'Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
And breathe, just breathe
Whoa breathe, just breathe,

Bye Darlings....these words ARE my diary and I am grateful you read them...and yes sometimes I feel naked in front of the crowd as I put these words here...use them however you want to and remember to just breathe when the path makes you turn...

What I Did For Love

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 10 Jun 2019 21:26:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

Today would have been my mother's 75th birthday. She's been gone now for 14 years and I miss her every day. I'm sure if she was here she would have been the most gorgeous amazing 75 year old woman on the planet. Today I dedicate this blog to her...and what she taught me...

When I was about 14 years old my mother took me to Jones Hall to see a musical.

Before that day I had only seen musicals in a movie theater...and I loved them.

If the movie had people spontaneously bursting into song in the middle of a scene then I was all for it.

I love Mary Poppins, Cinderella (that one was on tv), Chitty Chitty Bang Band (minus the part about the child catcher), and most especially Camelot (plus a whole lot of other Disney etc).

My mother LOVED musicals.

My father would take her to see shows and she would bring back the programs and I would study them like they were a text book.

She would tell me the stories of the show, describe the costumes, and play me the music.

When we lived in the Kingsville there was not a lot of live theater to take a child to save for the "Follies" her women's club put on each year and I lived for that---singing, dancing, costumes...I loved it.

So when we moved to Houston my mother finally had the opportunity to take me to see a musical on the stage.

It was "A Chorus Line".

She saw it on Broadway when it first opened and I had wanted to see it every since she told me that it was a show about Broadway dancers who were the hard working men and women who were in the chorus.

I remember sitting in my seat with great anticipation---and very excited that that this was something my mother and I were doing without my brother and sisters.

The orchestra tuned up, played a bit of overture and the curtain came up and there were the actors singing and dancing.

I was mesmerized.

They were right in front of me putting on this amazing show.

The show went on and each actor tells their story through song and dance and I sat on the edge of my seat and probably did not draw breath.

Near the end of the show one of the characters falls and hurts himself and when the others are asked by the director what they would do if they didn't dance the character of Diana sings "What I Did For Love".

At that point during the show I began to cry so hard I slipped out of my seat.

I was completely drawn in by the story and the music and the dancing and the beauty of the song.

And when the song was over and my mother looked at my tear streaked face she said:

"I think we have found something you truly love"

and at that moment my deep and abiding love of musical theater was born.

Jones Hall.
Sometime in 1978
5 seconds in to What I did for Love

After that my mom knew she had someone to always see a show with and any time something wonderful came through on tour she would take me and when I graduated she took me to New York so I could see a few Broadway shows before we went on to Europe.

We saw "Cats" and "Starlight Express" and "Dreamgirls".

I loved them all.

And as I looked around at the various marquees and saw the names of more shows I said "I want to see that one...and that one...and that one...".

In other words---all of them...

After that my mom would occasionally treat me to trip to NYC to see shows and when I had a daughter of my own and she was old enough we took her there to see shows as well.

And each time they dim the lights, and the orchestra tunes up, and the curtain rises I feel the blood in my veins pulse harder and I sit and soak up each second of it---and each and every time at some point I cry because I am overwhelmed with love for all of it.

In my late 30's and early 40's I finally got to go on stage myself.

The Junior League presented plays for young students and I helped build the sets and move them my first year and after that I acted for a few years (badly I might add but hey my audience was kindergarteners so I didn't have a high bar).

My mom would come and watch me and would cheer loudly----the only person cheering loudly as I was usually cast as the bad guy.

And then I started working on productions at the school and found that my real love was really doing the costumes more than being on the stage myself.

In 2005 GOTT (God Of The Theater...aka the best theater teacher/director in the world) asked for help with "Music Man" and I lied that I could do it.

What the hell?

I didn't know how to costume a show but I figured it out as fast as I could.

And in the middle of it my mother died.

Before she could ever see the show...

and I almost quit because of her death but I realized that GOTT and the kids needed me to get out of bed and go finish the show.

So I did.

For her.

And for me.

And now I get to do it all the time and each time I love it more and more and I love the challenge of trying to take GOTT's vision and put it on the stage in a beautiful and creative way that tells the story.

I put more into it in hours, sweat, and tears than I am paid for but it is all so worth it.

I do it for love.

Because you have to love it and have a passion for it or what you put on stage would just be mediocre.

I love each sparkle, each bow, each feather, each hat...because inside of them is a child who is doing their best to shine on that stage.

And I love that I get to do my job with a man who is one of my very best friends and someone I dearly love and that I have such fun doing it.

And a few years ago when my team of costumers, hair and makeup girls (and an incredibly creative mom who made armor out of junk from the dollar store) won the Tommy Tune Award for costuming Pippin I so wish my mom had been there with me to see that what she set into motion became my passion and that I finally found a way to take that love and creativity and use it for something.

We find our passions in life by stumbling into them sometimes.

And sometimes we are lucky enough to get to participate in those passions and not just watch.

My mom taught me how to cook, how to dress, how to decorate, how to throw a party, how to raise kids, how to make a bed, how to swim, how to put on makeup, how to love God...and how to love musical theater.

And now, thanks to my mom, I get to see the lights come up, the curtain raise and there on the stage are actors standing and singing and dancing in something I (or my team of girls) chose to put up there. And the actors are kids I love with all my heart.

And there is never a moment that I am not reminded of that young girl sitting in the dark in Jones Hall who cried when "Diana" started with "Kiss today goodbye..."

I see my life as a musical....

I look at my life now and I see that I am in the second act of my life.

The first act is one of childhood and motherhood and marriage. It had all kinds of silly songs and dances, bright costumes, and just before the curtain for intermission there was a cliffhanger with a newly single woman who was facing what was ahead.

And this second act is one of courage, bravery, and facing a battle with a demon.

And like musical theater there will be a big huge ballad before the final showstopping number.

I'm not sure what that ballad will be but it will be one of victory and survival and life because this show won't end with me going away...it will be a happy ending. And the show will go on for many many years...

And I feel my mom with me urging me to sing louder, dance harder, act fiercer, and shine brighter.

So I'm gonna sing louder (which means writing my blog more)
Dance harder (my workouts...my mom loved to workout)
act fiercer (be stronger as I fight this)
and shine brighter (try to spread as much love as I can)

The stage is where I most feel at home.

I love the way a stage feels to stand on...I love looking out at the seats and seeing all the chairs for the audience to sit in...I love looking at the pit and knowing that there will be musicians down there to play the music. I love the buzz of the dressing rooms as the actors get ready and the last minute panic before a show when a button breaks or a costume rips.

I love that magic will happen on that stage and I want that magic in my real life so I am so glad I get to participate in making art in my own little way.

Life would be so much better if everyone just spontaneously broke into song to explain things or move the day along, don't you think?

I don't have a lot of lessons for today...just stories to tell as I spend today thinking of my beautiful mom and the gift she gave me when she took be to see A Chorus Line all those years ago.

Theater tells a story...and our lives are stories.

Sometimes there are bad guys...sometimes there is love....sometimes there is a group of friends who band together to do something good for something or someone else...and sometimes there is an act of bravery.

I've experienced all of that---people who have failed me...people who have loved me...people who I have worked together with on something and now my act of bravery of facing stage 4 cancer.

I miss my mom every single day but I am so grateful the lessons she taught me. And I'm so blessed that what I love is now what I do for and out of love...

because love is never gone...and even though she is not here she is not gone from me.

If you have a passion in life find a way to put that passion into your daily life and let it lift you up...let it carry you through the hard parts of life.

Music
theater
sports
writing
art
travel
teaching

whatever your passion is.....

for me it's musical theater...for me a sequin glittering in the lights is a beacon...and a song is a battle cry...and a dance is my heartbeat...

All I do I do for love...not to make others love me but my love for others...what i do is born out of my love for making others feel loved, special, happy and joyful. I wake each day with the desire to bring light and good into this world and to clear away the bad and the pain.

I live to love others and share love...and I do not regret if I look like a fool doing so.

Some may find me to be too much to take and that's fine....not everyone can appreciate a clown in an overload of feathers and sequins but that is what I am.

My mom taught me to love and to share it. So I do.

So thank you for letting me put this on stage today and for sitting in the audience to watch...

I'm about to break into song (more writing to come) so stay put...

I'll try not to sing off key...

Inspiration Song: "What I Did For Love" from the musical "A Chorus Line". Because it set me on the path I am on and brought me love...and all I do is for love....

Kiss today goodbye
The sweetness and the sorrow
Wish me luck, the same to you
But I can't regret
What I did for love, what I did for love

Look, my eyes are dry
The gift was ours to borrow
It's as if we always knew
And I won't forget what I did for love
What I did for love

Gone
Love is never gone
As we travel on
Love's what we'll remember

Kiss today goodbye
And point me toward tomorrow
We did what we had to do
Won't forget, can't regret
What I did for love

What I did for love
What I did for love
And I won't forget
What I did for love

Gone
Love is never gone
As we travel on
Love's what we'll remember

Kiss today goodbye
And point me toward tomorrow
We did what we had to do
Won't forget, can't regret
What I did for love
What I did for love
What I did for love
What I did for love

Bye Darlings...my mom was a fabulous woman who taught me to be me...and to spread love...I hope you found some love here today...and thank you for putting up with yet another of my therapy ramblings!

Under Pressure

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 08 Apr 2019 01:14:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

Today before a little storm blew in I was looking out my back door and noticing just how dirty the rug on my back patio was...

It needs a good pressure washing to make it look fresh for spring.

Now why am I telling you about my dirty patio rug?

Well it all ties in to spin class.

(and if you know me then pretty much everything ties into spin class)

So today I'm in my #sundayservice spin class with my bae (otherwise known as HotChocolate2 or Jalapeno's Daddy) and as usual he is serving up some soul searching advice along with tapbacks and climbs during the spin dance party he created.

And he says:

"Use the pressure you are under to become your power..."

And all kinds of light bulbs start going off in my brain.

not because of my dirty patio but because of LIFE

Before class I was feeling the pressure of the week ahead of me...and the pressure of being someone who is ill but still needs and wants to function as a non-ill human.

And sometimes I feel like my life is as messy as my patio.

Underneath all the grime that has collected there is something that just needs cleaning and not throwing out.

So when he said that and all those fireworks started in my head I realized that right now God is pressure (or power) washing me to clean me up.

He's let me get grimy and dirty so that He can wash me clean.

The pressure He is putting me under will ultimately BE MY POWER and my mess will be my message and one day I will be clean and shiny and new again.

God does that with all of us.

He has us experience things we don't ever imagine we can withstand (have you ever felt how stingingly hard water comes out of a pressure wash hose?) and yet once we go through the process the dirt and grime that has gotten in the way is gone and once again we are refreshed.

I've got friends who are going through terrible horrible very hard things...children who they have lost to accidents, parents who are ill or dying or have died, divorces, illnesses, etc...

none of us gets through our days without getting a little dirty from the messes in our lives.

And for some of us, especially those who's children/grandchildren are now in heaven, we will never be the same. You can't experience that without losing part of yourself.

That patio might get clean but it won't be the same...

Losing a child is an unimaginable burden to bear.

But even those precious moms and dads and grandparents will withstand the pressure of the process because in the end God is still with them and love and lessons will be found.

Right now I look at my life and say "Gee thanks God for giving me Stage 4 cancer...and painful neuropathy in my fingers and feet....and that I am alone without a partner in this process....and that my cancer is classified as "incurable" and that I have to suffer with chemo every 3 weeks...chemo that continues to destroy the nerves in my hands and feet and spine and my kidneys and that bonus round of radiation fun and the extra bonus round of a shredded spine. Thanks. Thanks ALOT".

But I do say "thanks"

Because getting dirty with this cancer has led me to appreciate so much else I have been given in this life and how incredibly blessed I am even though I am ill.

I am positively filthy with things to handle and yet I can do it.

Because the pressure is making me into a better human.

Diamonds form under pressure.

Diamonds are shiny.

I want to be shiny.

I want to be clean and shiny and brilliant...

and right now I am but I feel like there is this layer of grime that needs to be blasted off me to get to where I want and need to be.

Diamonds are strong.

I want to be strong.

I want to be strong and hard and so strong that the only thing that can cut me is another diamond or a very very sharp blade.

All the needles and scalpels that have been used on me can't cut into the REAL me.

They may cut away cancerous tissue or shredded pieces of a spinal disk but they don't cut into the me that I truly am.

So I am going to use this pressure to make myself into a diamond...

I'm going to use this pressure to clean myself up and be a better human.

And when others see me they will see someone who has withstood time, pressure, heat, and so many forces to become a stronger better woman.

The last time I saw Dr. Rockstar we discussed me having a knee replacement.

She's reluctant to approve it because she doesn't want to take me off chemo and I will need to be off chemo to heal.

But most of her reluctance comes from not wanting me to suffer more.

To have to go through more pain and pressure and hard times.

She wants to spare me more suffering.

But my knees are killing me and there are things I want to do and see and I can't with knees that cause me so much pain.

I might have months to live or years but in any case I want to do it as a woman who can walk and stand.

She told me "I hate to see you go through all of that..." and her voice trailed off...

I looked her in the eye and said:

"HAVE YOU MET ME? YOU KNOW ME AS WELL AS MY FAMILY AND YOU KNOW I AM NEVER EVER GONNA GIVE UP AND LET THIS DAMN DISEASE TAKE ME"

And she smiled her brilliant smile and moved to my side to hug me and told me "I need you to stay around and hang out with me for a very very long time. So if that's what you want and you are stable in your next scan you can do it."

Because you see I am not ready to throw in the towel and just say "well I'm gonna die soon so I'll just suffer".

Hell
to
the
no

I'm going to beat this damn El Diablo and I'm going to do it with a bionic knee...

Just call me Jamie Summers

(some of you will get that reference...for the rest of you I suggest Google)

I can handle the pressure of the knee replacement because I have handled worse.

Dr. Nugent agreed I handled my hysterectomy, treatments and spinal surgery LIKE A BOSS and so this will just be one more thing I have to get through.

And it will relieve the pressure I feel in my knees when I am standing or walking.

You see...it all comes back to pressure.

I can perform brilliantly under pressure (just ask GOTT because my costumes are always "on point" and sometimes I am literally sliding into home on tech week finishing them).

I can handle pressure.

And my patio is gonna get clean and so am I...

Inspiration Song: "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie...because pressure comes down and me and you and no man asks for it...but it can change us and make us clean and strong. I particularly love the last stanza:

'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love (people on streets) dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure
Under pressure

Bye darlings...when the pressure comes down on you use that pressure as your POWER and let it make you stronger. And thank you my darling HotChocolate2 for finding words that zip into my soul and settle there. I love you.

A Spoonful of Sugar (helps the medicine go down)

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Fri, 22 Feb 2019 01:57:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

it's been a hot minute since I blogged but I have a good excuse...I was literally working day and night getting ready for our musical "Mary Poppins". It was long days with long hours but totally worth it. The kids were jaw dropping amazing. My team of girls (who I refer to as the sweet woodland creatures that help the Disney princess) were ON IT! They were incredible! It could not have been a better show and it is one of my all time favorite and best theater experiences. If you saw the show---thank you for coming! If you missed it I am sorry to say you missed a helluva show. High school musicals here are like a full length Broadway production and the talent is mind blowing...next time you see that your local high school is putting on a show buy a ticket and go---it's likely to be more than you expect. I'm honored to say I had a lot of sweet friends come out to support me and my students and my radiation team and Dr Rockstar even found the time to come out and support their favorite unicorn...

so back to blogging...and an update on what is going on with El Diablo...and why I might need a spoonful of sugar...

2019 has started off with a bang...our musical was a triumph but my cancer has not been.

Dr. Rockstar gave me a little chemo break to do what I needed to do for the show and then I had a scan.

Have I mentioned that I hate scans?

Because they are terrifying.

Not the process...that is easy...and I've had so many I am on first name "hug you when I see you" basis with the techs that do the scans. Their names are Debbie and Rod. Add them to your prayers because they are good people.

The scans themselves are no big deal. I check in, put on a gown, drink some fabulous contrast (ok it's not really fabulous...it's gross). I drink that contrast down like a boss. Because I haven't been allowed to eat or drink for 4 hours I make it go down fast so I can get it over and eat.

45 minutes or so later they come get me and give me a nice little iv and off to the machine I go...

I lay there and pray.

And I pray fiercely and mightily.

I pray with all my spirit that my scan will be ok.

A few minutes later it is over.

Then I usually pop down to Dr. Angel and behave like a brat so that he will stop saving everyone else's life and pay attention to me.

Except this time he was super busy and not able to stop his world to deal with his unicorn.

The nurse said he would call me.

He didn't.

Not sure why but I didn't hear from him.

I waited for the call but the call never came...

I knew the results would be on my patient portal the next day so I knew I would know the results but I need things explained to me at a 5th grade level when it comes to my disease and those reports are written for doctors.

The next afternoon the radiology report hit the portal.

I really really wish Dr. Angel could have seen me or called.

Or I should have asked Dr. Rockstar to hide the report from my portal like she does my CA125 so I don't freak out.

No patient should read stuff they need explained on their portal.

Because it is terrifying.

I read the first report---the one on my chest and neck.

It was clear.

Thank you Father, Son and Holy Spirit...

But then 20 minutes later the abdominal CT report hit the portal and my terror was real.

All 5 lymph nodes that had previously measured with cancer showed measurable growth.

All 5

All 5

All 5

All 5 lymph glands that can't be removed because they are dangerously close to a little thing called my aorta.

So yeah one tiny slip of the scalpel and I will bleed out.

There isn't a surgeon in Houston skilled enough to do that.

There isn't a surgeon anywhere you can do that.

And frankly I don't want anyone to try.

I'm not a living breathing version of the game "Operation" although I have had so many surgeries lately I feel like I could be.

Remember that game? you took out the pieces (I always went for the Charlie Horse or wishbone) and if you hit the sides it buzzed. I'm pretty sure that slicing into an aorta would cause more than a little buzz.

And one or two of them are the badass lymph nodes that keep me from having terrible lymphedema that could lead to me having a leg the size of an elephant.

Yeah it would be hard to spin or do yoga with a leg the size of my waist.

and it would be painful.

I have enough side effects going on without having to drag a 200 lb leg around.

So basically if we can't remove all of them there is no point in risking my health to remove one or two.

So I read on the portal all this awful stuff and all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and cry.

So I cried.

The curling in a ball thing didn't happen because I was at school and I didn't exactly want to lay on the floor of the Black Box.

I told GOTT and he made me feel a bit better and then I got in my car and called my Aunt Jane and had a good cry.

And lest you think Dr. Rockstar and Dr. Angel are cruel for letting me read it on the portal instead of just telling me---she thought Dr. Angel was going to be able to see me and read it (because he is the scan reading specialist in my oncology duo) and he was just swamped and probably didn't realize I was gonna read it myself. She told me to not do that again and if I can't see him or hear from him to call her and let her give me her thoughts. And hell yes that is what I am doing next time.

So I spent the next few days praying, staying busy, and trying to forget what might be going on in my body.

I thought about my kids and how they might have to handle things if I got sicker....

I though about my students and fretted that I might miss out on future shows and watching them do magical things...

I thought about my friends and how I needed to be with them to try to brush aside those terrible thoughts that were banging around in my head.

You see when you are dealing with a deadly illness no matter how hard you try the bad stuff will creep in and whisper to you...it says ugly things in a seductive voice that makes you listen.

When El Diablo talks to me he says things like "be sure you tell someone you want this song played at your funeral"...or "you better find someone to take your cats when you are gone"...or "so and so might like this as a memento when you are gone"...

yes, those thoughts go in my head.

And what do I do in response?

I yell out "not today you bastard El Diablo...not today!"...

and then I pray...

And I ask God to quiet those thoughts and help me see a future for myself and not my funeral.

I try my best not to let that voice be heard but sometimes it is hard to keep it quiet.

Because I've been told that I will not overcome this disease.

Not with the technology we have available at this time.

I just need to stay alive long enough for the science to catch up to me.

But frankly since uterine cancer isn't breast cancer we don't get the research funds and research that the pink people do. Not all women's cancer is pink but it's the only one that gets any real attention. (and yes I am aware that men get breast cancer too...it's just more rare)

I'd make a bet that most of you didn't know much at all about uterine cancer before I had it and spread the word here and on social media but you could probably tell me that breast cancer awareness month is October and we do all things pink then.

There are tests for detecting breast cancer early.

Not so for uterine or ovarian...there are no screening tests (except for the imperfect CA125), no scans (my CT scans were CLEAR prior to my hysterectomy and yet my body was full of tumor) and most insurance companies won't pay for things like a PET scan or anything else until you have a real reason for diagnosis.

With uterine and ovarian cancer you don't get to walk in and have a machine do a scan that can see if you might have an issue...

you have to be bleeding first...and by then it is often too late.

The symptoms mimic menopause so often we just chalk it up to that.

And a pap smear won't tell you if you have uterine or ovarian cancer only if it is cervical.

We need awareness, research, and money....

But we don't have cosmetics companies offering to make peach lipsticks for us to raise funds and awareness...and we don't have athletic wear brands making peach or teal clothing to show support.

So that's why I do my small part here preaching to all of you to raise awareness...if I can get just one woman to see a doc or one woman to go ahead and get a hysterectomy when she is done with childbirthing then I might have saved a life or two.

And next time you want to throw a few dollars to support a good cause think about supporting uterine cancer research...we need the help...if we could do for the peach what we have done for the pink we might have some screening tests and genetic testing and better drugs and cures...keep supporting the pink but throw a little love to the peach too...

ok so off my soapbox and back on to what is happening with El Diablo...

(and to my breast cancer friends please know I admire you so much for your fight and I take nothing away from what you go through or have been through---just know you are very blessed to have cancers that get some attention. My pink girls are amazing warriors and I have watched some of them go through some really nasty stuff to get cured.)

But in my case the chemo is just keeping me alive...it's not curing me.

Because Uterine Papillary Serous Carcinoma doesn't get cured...it's one of those nasty beasts that just likes to stay around like a fungus...

it's impossible to kill and it takes some work just to keep living with it.

Dr Rockstar has been frank with me about this.

We can survive but we don't get cured.

I basically have a long-term chronic illness.

So I need to keep surviving for as long as I can.

Because I believe in miracles and I believe that something will happen that will make it go away.

I have to believe it.

I will not give in to this hideous disease.

I had a friend tell me she admired me for the way I keep going.

I told her this:

Each day I know I have to sink or swim. I have no choice...it's sink or swim. So I swim. Each and every damn day I keep swimming like Dory.

I wake up and tell myself that I am Michael Phelps and that I am the greatest swimmer in the world and I am gonna keep on swimming and I am gonna swim good enough to win gold medals.

That's it...I just have to keep on going.

So I do.

I spin.

I do yoga.

I work.

I hang out with friends.

I sometimes clean my house.

So Twirler Girl played wingman and came with me to see Dr. Rockstar on Monday.

I was so afraid that my blood pressure went up and I was crazy with worry---honestly I don't know how she put up with me.

I.was.a.basketcase.

But Dr. Rockstar came walking in with her big beautiful smile and said "I"m not mad about this scan"

And I am pretty sure I looked at her like she had lost her brilliant mind.

But then she calmed me down by telling me that CT's aren't perfect and that a lymph gland's measurement can change the slightest bit by what angle it is measured from. And she said that even though there was growth in all 5 lymph nodes that it was TINY growth (to me it seemed like it was miles of growth but that's just me not understanding this and why I need a doctor to explain it).

So she said that even though it wasn't GREAT...it wasn't BAD...

and that she was actually expecting worse...

And that we were going to keep going.

And then I asked her: so do I GET to have chemo?

And she laughed...

Because I was EXCITED to get to do chemo.

Because I feared that we were going to have to stop it because of my side effects or change meds.

But she doesn't want to change the meds and "agitate" the cancer so we are staying on the cisplatin/Gemzar routine except that Glory Halliluyer I get to have it every 3 weeks instead of every 2.

Oh that is lovely...it means I have one additional week to feel ok.

She doesn't want to overstress my already overstressed bone marrow (because if the bone marrow is in bad shape...well...let's not talk about that option)

And because I am having some super fun side effects...

Do you want to know what they are?

Of course you do (don't!)

But I'm gonna share anyway....

So i'm having some neuropathy in my fingers and feet.

Basically they tingle all the time like they are "asleep".

So typing isn't easy but I manage...

And if I drop my head chin-to-chest it sends a little electrical shock to my feet.

Fun!

(no not fun...but whatev....)

Long story short I've had some not great growth in my lymph nodes and the cisplatin is causing some not so great side effects but the good news is that I am well enough to have and withstand chemo and right now that's what is keeping me alive.

Because I need to give God time to make His miracle happen with me or for Him to have science advance so that I can have that miracle.

And just to add to the fun I have been having this week I now have a possible case of diverticulitis and have a weird bad pain in my lower abdomen.

(yes I saw my Doc...we are treating it with antibiotics and if it gets worse guess what? I get ANOTHER CT scan! whoop!)

So it has been 10 days of scariness and medical stuff for me.

But guess what?

I still feel lucky.

Because even though I have cancer I know I can do hard things.

And these are some hard things.

But I also got the huge pleasure of watching my students on the stage and they did a great show and my girls helped me execute a fabulous costume/hair/makeup job for the show.

I learned something from Mary Poppins that I had forgotten---a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.

Because in every job that must be done
There is an element of Fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job's a game...

So I took myself over to chemo after seeing Dr. Rockstar and I laughed and joked with my nurses and I hugged them and I shared photos of the show and I got to spend the day with one of my besties (TwirlerGirl) and so it wasn't so bad.

And as that poison dripped into me I realized how blessed I am to be able to receive such care and to have had my cancer found.

And that I feel and look as good as I do (I'm not talking about looking pretty but rather that I don't look sick).

And that I can spin and do yoga.

And that I can do fun things with friends.

And that I can watch kids sing and dance on the stage.

And most importantly I can spend time with my two amazing children and my aunt....

Because 2 years ago none of this was promised to me.

I could have died in that surgery and I could have been so riddled with cancer that she just closed me up.

But Dr Rockstar didn't give up on me...she opened me up, saw the horrible mess that I was, and she went to battle to save me.

And Dr. Angel uses all his super smarts to try and do all he can with his magic machines to fix me.

And they give me poison to keep me alive.

And one day I truly believe this will all be behind me.

Current medical information says maybe not but I believe that science is not always perfect.

So I believe I will be cured of the incurable.

And I will look upon my journey to that wellness with a love and gratitude for what I have been through.

Because it has shaped and molded me into a better woman.

A better mom.

A better friend.

A better niece, sister, cousin, aunt....

and maybe someday a better girlfriend or wife....

Because the old me had much of life just handed to her...

and now I have to work for it...

I have to stretch and reach....I have to do hard things.

I can sit around and cry and whine and fuss about what I have been handed.

And sometimes I do.

Don't think for one minute that I handle all of this like Mary Poppins....sometimes I'm like a Banks child about it and I'm a brat.

I do cry and whine and ask why this has happened to me.

But at the end of it all I know that there is a purpose to all of this and it's not mine to know why just yet but some day it will all be abundantly clear.

But for now I know that all the tears in the world won't fix me like chemo does so I do the chemo.

And all the whining and fussing won't change how things are but my attitude can clearly affect how I handle what is happening.

Life is better when we find the sweet in the bitter.

If you dig around enough or search hard enough you can find that spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down in whatever you are faced with.

For me the sugar is being grateful.

because being grateful makes it all easier to take than being bitter about it does.

If I sit down in that chemo chair with hope and faith then the medicine goes down much better.

(even the dreaded Dex...which burns...)

We all have hard things to face.

Maybe yours are not as challenging as mine...or maybe they are more challenging.

It's not a competition on who's plate is the fullest...but maybe we should judge it all by how we handle that full plate when it is handed to us.

My plate is as full as a Thanksgiving day dinner plate...there is a lot of turkey, green beans, mashed taters, sweet potatoes, dressing, brussels sprouts, rolls, cranberry sauce and gravy on my plate.

But hey at least there is gravy....

because gravy makes it all better...

so yeah, I have a very full plate.

And I don't have to eat all of it at once...

so I'm gonna take small bites of each and I'll finish the plate when the time comes.

Because there is pumpkin pie for dessert....

And for me that pie is a happy long life that is waiting for me after I finish all the dinner stuff.

Personally I like to sometimes eat dessert first but in this case I have to wait on my pie.

so I will...

and I'm pretty sure God is going to put a lot of whipped cream on it for me....

Inspiration Song: A Spoonful of Sugar from the musical "Mary Poppins"...because a spoonful of sugar can help anything go down easier...and because my kids sang it so wonderfully (like better than anyone ever did...they were magical)

Bye darlings---find your sugar to sweeten the hard times....I know I am trying to do it for myself...

Thank U, Next

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 02 Jan 2019 01:28:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

Well here we are on the first day of 2019...

GOOD RIDDANCE TO 2018!!!!!

This was NOT my year...

I thought 2017 and 2016 were rough but 2018 took it to a new level.

I had so many high hopes going into 2018:

I was gonna vanquish El Diablo
I was gonna lose the rest of the weight I wanted to lose
I was gonna FINALLY meet a nice guy to love
I was going to enjoy my health
I was maybe going to get to travel or go somewhere fun

And then God said: HA!

I had 2 good months and then basically nothing but medical hell and stuff for the remaining 10 months.

January came and I had what looked like a good scan and I was rocking and rolling on the spin bike and the yoga mat. My blood levels were recovering and my white count was going up and my platelets were in normal range and my hemoglobin, although still low---was in normal range.

And let me tell you, you never think about hemoglobin until you don't have it...

For the first time in over a year my hemoglobin went up to 10 and even hit a high of 12. (To put things in perspective 12-16 is normal range for a woman, 10 is low for a cancer patient and I have been living at 8...I've been living at 8.2 or under since May)

So I had a few glorious months with enough oxygen in my blood to not make me feel like I was 90 years old all the time.

I felt GREAT!

And that's when God said Ha!

My cancer was NOT gone and I got the added fun of a shredded disk in my spine that was literally laying on a nerve.

(Pray you never know what that feels like...worst.pain.ever.)

So back to chemo I went and I got to have spinal surgery.

All before May.

The weight I wanted to lose was not to be thanks to the devil drug Decadron (I call it the everclear in the trash can punch) and instead of losing weight it started creeping back on.

I'm told the weight will come off once I stop chemo.

The problem is I can't stop chemo...

and therein lies the rub....

So El Diablo was back, I was gaining weight but at least my spine got fixed.

As for the man---never happened.

Not even a date.

Nope...last night now marks the 7th New Year's Eve that the only kiss I got to give was to...a cat.

I have friends who have been divorced less time than me who are already remarried or in a serious relationship.

Heck my ex is even remarried...but I am happy for him and honestly I left him so we could both find someone to love us as we deserved....he did and sadly I've spend all this time alone waiting for it to happen for me...

I even tried Bumble (at the urging of some friends) and that yielded nothing...

For some reason I have had to face these battles of mine without a second in command.

Yes, I have been truly blessed to have some amazing friends and my Aunt Jane to help me out. I could not have made it without them---because when you don't have a partner you don't have someone to drive you to the hospital...

or be the person the doctor talks to after surgery...

without a partner you can't take care of yourself when you are incapacitated...

without a partner you have to have a friend or family member care for you after surgery and that is a very humbling experience...

and without a partner when the bad dreams come or the nights you lay in bed wondering if you are going to live there is no one to dry your tears or hold you

(the cats suck at that...Dragon just flips his tail, Zulu whines and thinks I need to feed him, and Angel just looks at me like I am a fool)

It's so hard to be ill...

and it's really hard to be alone...

but it's super hard to be ill AND alone.

Most of my friends who have had to face illness or physical challenges have someone to love... a spouse or partner or boyfriend/girlfriend...

it's not the same to fight it alone

And many of my sweet well meaning friends tell me "be patient---once you have vanquished El Diablo you will have time for a relationship!".

well there are a few problems with that:

1) most of the ones who say it are in a relationship so they don't understand how hard it is to do this without a loving partner

and

2) El Diablo might not go away

I am always honest here and right now I am in a darkish place.

I'm weary of fighting and I am lonely...

I do not want to leave this world without knowing love again...I don't want to keep doing this alone.

I am beyond blessed to have my friends to help me but it's just not enough...

I want more...

I've even given up the thought of going to Italy---mostly because I know in my heart that I really only want to see it with someone I love romantically and not just with friends.

You see I want to watch a Tuscan sunset with the man I love or not at all...

And right now I am feeling like that will never ever happen.

I'm tired of putting on a happy face for all and saying "I'm ok"

because I'm not...

I'm lonely

I'm tired of trying to entertain myself with Netflix when what I really want is to have someone to come home to.

I'm tired of being alone

And when I am this tired I feel like just putting down my sword and shield and giving up.

Because I am just existing but I don't feel like I am LIVING.

I have spent all of this year fighting for my life.

And I'm fighting for my life each day but that fight might never end.

So saying once El Diablo is behind me I can find romance is like saying it will never happen.

Because the way El Diablo behaves I will pretty much be having to do some form of treatment to keep him at bay for the rest of whatever life I have.

He won't just disappear.

He just goes on vacay from time to time.

So waiting until I am well and healthy might mean that I never will get the chance to know love again because I might not ever BE well and healthy.

And on the flip side of it who really wants a woman with Stage 4 cancer?

So as I share this with you please know that I am trying to find the light...I'm trying to see beyond my own emotional pain that there is hope...I'm trying not to just be a whiny Bish that feels sorry for herself...but sometimes I do have to be a whiny bish who feels sorry for herself.

I try my best to put on a brave face and a smile when asked how I am.

I try my best to be strong and I try to make this all look easy.

I do a good job of hiding the ugly side of what I go through because if I was completely honest no one would want to be around me.

So I put on the brave face as often as I can and I try to be as strong as I possibly can.

But today as I face a new year I want to be honest.

I don't want to be alone 365 days from today.

I want someone to kiss at midnight.

I know I am a good woman.

I've spent 7 years getting reacquainted with myself.

I raised my kids and sent them off to school so the day-to-day mothering is done.

I know who I am as a person and I know what mistakes I have made in previous relationships.

I like myself (that's for all of you who say I need to love myself first...I do!)

But I'm not a good risk...El Diablo makes me pretty much unmarketable on the dating market.

But I still feel that out there is someone who will see that I am a magical unicorn and I am worth having to put up with a lot of glitter...

and cancer....

That maybe I am worth the risk.

I think I am...I just need to find someone who agrees.

I fight this fight mostly because I don't want to leave my kids motherless.

But there has to be more to life than what I do for them.

And in 2019 I aim to find it.

I'm not content to just watch Netflix alone.

I need a reason to come home at night....

so I start this year with 2 wishes:

1) that my disease gets under control
and
2) that I can find a man who is willing to take a chance on a girl like me

I have faith in God that both can and will happen.

God may have said Ha! but He has also taught me with all of this...

God has shaped me with my disease.

He has used it to refine me...

He has tempered me like chocolate...

He has burnished me by rubbing all the rough parts out

He has set me on fire to make me strong and shiny like fine china...

He has put me in the dark so that I can seek His light...

He has made me small so I can grow more...

He has weakened me so I can find my strength...

He has brought me to my knees so I can get back up...

He put me on a path I didn't want to be on and I found a way to run on it...

He asked me to trust when I had nothing to base the trust on...

He asked me to hold on when I felt like I could not possible do so for one more second...

He has taught me to seek Him first and not to lean upon my own understanding...

He has asked me to have faith when I have had none...

I know that God has given me my cancer as a gift...so that I can share my story with others to get more women to go to the doctor...to spread the word about cold capping to keep your hair...to show how faith and our bodies can be tested and yet we can still keep going.

God asked me to handle cancer and so I have...

He asked me to survive cancer surgery and I did...

He asked me to survive chemo and I did and still am...

He asked me to survive radiation and I did (and still did yoga)...

He asked me to go through the hell of a shredded spinal disk and the surgery to follow and I did (even though I cried and screamed a lot through it)

He asked me to get an infection so serious that it required hospitalization and not give in to it and I did...

He asked me to go through chemo every other week and I have...

He asked me to accept the blood of others when my body was so low and weak that I needed a transfusion and I did...

I've survived a lot (and yeah I am more than a little impressed with myself that little old me did all that because just ONE of those things is a lot to go through)

I started writing this blog tonight deeply depressed, wallowing in self pity and feeling so very alone.

And as I have written it I feel more hopeful and a little lighter.

Now I could go back and erase all the sad depressing stuff and get rid of the whining and make everything look shiny and pretty like some people's social media is.

But I'm not that girl.

My social media is full of me sweaty with no makeup.

I share the ugly with the pretty.

So I'm gonna post this "as is" with all the tears and frustration I am feeling being part of it.

There are days when the rainbow that this unicorn likes to be on is replaced with a storm cloud and today is one of those days.

I try to be positive and strong but some days I just have to be open and vulnerable and let you see the hard side of all of this.

Illness is a tough road to travel.

And it's harder to do when you don't have a navigator or wingman.

And before you judge me for my feelings put yourself in my shoes for a minute

and if you have a love or spouse or partner take a moment to be grateful you do and don't judge me for wanting what you have...

some people are content to live alone...I have never been that girl. I thrive on love and I miss having someone to fill that space in my heart for me.

When I am with my friends who are couples and I see the love they have I wonder what is wrong with me that I can't have that for myself.

But I have come to learn that other than the cancer there isn't really anything "wrong" with me.

I may not be everyone's cup of tea but out there is a man who will think I am.

and if I'm not his cup of tea maybe I am his martini...

I love deeply and generously...

so I know that man will be lucky to have me even if it means he has to watch children sing and dance on a stage and has to put up with a lot of unicorn decor...

I sparkle...I shine...I am a glittery silly object but I also know I am worth loving...

2018 wore me the hell out.

Jesus take the wheel and steer me toward a happier and healthier 2019...

I don't think it is so wrong to want to be loved...I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting to share the ups and downs of life with someone who loves me...

and I'm sharing it with you because I need to talk this out and find my way back to a path that feels like there is some light there...right now it all feels very dark....

but I know that as long as I keep moving forward at some point I will see a pinpoint of light and things will get brighter.

If you have your health be grateful...

and if you have someone to love be grateful...

and if you have your health and someone to love be very grateful...

because there are some of us who are lonely...

and some of us who are struggling...

and some of us who are tired...

and it's hard to fight when you don't know what you are fighting for...

life---yes...but there has to be more to it than getting up, going to work, going to workout, coming home and cooking dinner and going to bed.

Because that is my every day.

That's all I do...except on chemo days where I get to sit in a chair and have poison poured into me.

I'd just like to do all of those mundane things with someone to kiss goodnight.

I'd like there to be someone who tells me "I love you" before I shut by eyes...

I'd like to have someone come spin or do yoga with me because it's my passion...

I'd like to have someone bring me flowers after a show and tell me I did a good job and he will see that those precious children are a lifeforce in me and watching them do what they do on the stage is what makes the blood pump in my body...

Don't worry---I will fight on...I will keep doing what the doctors say and I will keep climbing on the spin bike or on the yoga mat to keep myself healthy.

I'm going to costume Mary Poppins and it is going to look AMAZING...

I will keep living...as long as God lets me...

I want to live a long and happy life...

I want to see my senior years and be an old pest to my kids...

I want to see that Tuscan sunset with a man who thinks I'm prettier than the sunset...

I want to live a long time to enjoy the knee replacement I plan to get this spring and I want to give that new knee a workout while I travel and do things...

I want to look in the mirror and see a very wrinkled face look back at me...

I want to outlive my cats...

I won't give up my fight...

I just don't want to do it by myself anymore.

So my friends when you say your prayers I ask that you include me and pray for my health, for my emotional well being and for God to send me a man who understands that glitter is a color, that can appreciate a woman who feels so deeply she cries, that loves good cooking and that will sit through a high school musical.

I need some life to add to my living.

I need someone else to fight for...

I've found a way to be happy by myself but I am more than ready to not be alone anymore.

I have thoroughly learned who and what I am and I am ready to share...I've spent enough time getting to know and love myself.

I know that there is someone out there that is a gambler and he will roll the dice on me...

and if he's smart he will bet it all on me and be richly rewarded for it!

I'm just more than ready to find him...

thanks for listening...this has been a rough lonely hard year and I am so grateful to all of you who have travelled the road with me...and I am grateful that anyone has read this whiny blog.

The ground feels very uneven right now but I'm going to keep walking down the path until I find the smooth road that I know is ahead of me.

It's there---I can't see it but I have faith that it is just around the bend.

So to 2018:

thank you

NEXT

Inspiration Song: "Thank U, Next" by Ariana Grande...she's my girl...she gives me the soundtrack to many of my days. This song for her represents the growth she received from previous relationships...and for me it represents the growth I received this year with all I experienced...these lyrics speak to me:

I've got so much love (love)
Got so much patience (patience)
I've learned from the pain (pain)
I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)
I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)
But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)
'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)
Ain't no need for searching
And for that, I'll say

Thank you, next (thank you, next)
Thank you, next (thank you, next)
Thank you, next

Bye darlings...I have a lot of hope that this year will bring good things to me---health and love and time with friends and family...I hope that this year brings all that you love and want for yourself!!!! Life can be hard but with faith we can ease the strife a bit...I appreciate your love and prayers more than you know...

Shine a Little Love

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 03 Dec 2018 03:33:00 +0000

Hello Darlings,

About 2 weeks ago I had a birthday.

I am now 54 years old.

And today marks 2 years to the day since I was released from the hospital after my hysterectomy to remove some of the cancer (she couldn't get it all...those pesky lymph nodes).

I used to loathe my birthday but now I am more grateful than ever to have one.

Two years ago when I was diagnosed I wasn't sure I would even see this birthday so I welcome it and all that comes with it.

And for the first time in 2 years I was not on pain killers or recovering from surgery on my birthday.

I got to celebrate that I AM ALIVE.

And for the first time since I was diagnosed I get to dream about the possibility of a future.

I can make plans.

I can look ahead.

No, I'm not cured.

Not even close.

But right now my disease doesn't seem to be active so I'll take it for what it is and celebrate that RIGHT NOW I don't seem to have active cancer in my body.

My scan in January will tell us more and if it's clear it will be another step forward.

I've had a lot of birthdays...

and I want a lot more.

I've learned so much over these last 2 years...

I've learned I am stronger than I ever thought I would be.

I've learned I can hear terrifying things about my body and I can look my doctor in the eye and say "ok, so what are we gonna do about it" and I have faced what they have asked me to do.

I've cried so many tears...and I am glad to say I have cried as many tears of gratitude as I have cried tears of fear and anger.

I've learned that being pissed off that I have cancer does nothing to get rid of my cancer but it does help me to fight harder.

I've learned that those nights that I am alone (which is every night) in my bed, scared out of my mind, my thoughts racing and fear coursing through my body that I can still find a way to wake up in the morning and face another day.

I've had a lot of people tell me how brave and strong I am.

My answer to that is this:

ANYONE can be as brave and strong as I am...in fact braver and stronger...because when you have no choice but to face up to what God has put before you then you have no choice--you face up to what God has laid upon you.

I've had a lot of people say very kind and amazing things to me...things I feel I don't deserve and things I hope I honestly live up to.

I PROMISE you that if you had to face what I have been faced with YOU WOULD BE JUST AS STRONG.

Because you aren't given a choice.

So you do it.

No one gets asked "do you want to have cancer?"

you just get it.

or you don't.

but you don't get a choice in it.

Pretty sure no one would say "yeah! Bring on the cancer..."

And thank goodness we can't see it coming because if we could I'm pretty sure we would all say "nope...I don't want to do that..."

(so yeah don't smoke...and eat healthy...and get your checkups...)

I've looked back at my life and tried to see if something I have done led to this and the closest thing I can come up with is maybe because I had HPV at one time maybe that had something to do with it. (no, I don't have research supporting it...it's just my guess).

I know I don't have cancer because I was mean to my sisters...or jealous of a friend...or once cheated at cards...

God doesn't give out cancer as a punishment for wrong doing (or else all the drug dealers and murderers would be dying of cancer).

Some of us just get it.

Lately I have tried to figure out that if I manage to stay in the state of NED (no evidence of disease) how I might ever try to make a man comfortable with loving a woman who has been through what I have been through.

That is if I ever MEET a man

and actually have a date...

because the last date I had was 7 years ago...

but IF I did, how do I present myself.

For I am now not only flawed with the flaws I have (talking too much, being over emotional, quick tempered, a somewhat frustrating woman to deal with...and then there is all the unicorn nonsense) but now I have the very real flaw of a Stage 4 cancer.

And I have decided to look at myself like the Japanese look at object they consider beautiful.

The concept is called Wabi-Sabi:

a way of living that focuses on finding beauty within the imperfections of life and accepting peacefully the natural cycle of growth and decay

I love the thought of being beautiful and yet imperfect...imperfectly beautiful...a beauty that is more beautiful because it is not perfect.

I am not a Victoria's Secret model...but I don't need to be...

There is a Japanese art called Kintsugi where a broken piece of pottery is repaired with gold, silver or platinum...in other words the cracks are filled with precious metal to make it whole again.

Well I have had a whole lot of platinum poured into me thanks to chemo (my chemo infusions are platinum based...cisplatin and carboplatin)

So like a precious vessel that has been cracked open my cancer has now filled me with something precious to repair and improve my esthetic.

Because cancer has caused me to grow in so many ways and to accept myself in ways I never thought I could.

I now see the imperfect as perfect...not because I am perfect but I am now a more perfect version of myself thanks to what I have been through.

My sweet beautiful friend Terrific T has cancer...she's fighting breast cancer (pray for her!) and she posted a lovely story about how glow sticks have to be broken in order to shine.

Something that has to break to be what it is intended to be.

That's how I see myself (and my sweet T)...we have been broken but we now shine.

A glow stick is just a plastic stick with some stuff inside it until it is cracked...but once you crack it the chemicals release and mix and the stick shines

and it glows

and it can light up everything around it

and you can see it from a distance.

So my breaks and cracks and flaws and empty spaces I now see as beauty.

My scars are a roadmap to what I have experienced.

They tell a story.

You can see the scars from my breast augmentation and tummy tuck---something I did to make myself feel better about myself and to put the very fat girl away for good.

And my long scar down my middle where the parts that provided me with children were removed along with cancer...

and the scars on my belly from the laparoscopic tools that were used to repair my hernia and to remove my gallbladder...

and the scar on my back from my spinal fusion...

and next spring there will be a scar on my right leg from a knee repair.

My skin is not smooth and unlined...there are lines on my face from years on this earth.

I am a wondrous and wonderful story of life, pain, illness, struggle, and joy...

And I will shine....

and the cracks in me will light up...

Inspiration Song: "Shine a Little Love" by ELO...because you all shine a little love on my life and let me see...

Bye Darlings...we are not flawed...we are wonderfully made...we are perfectly imperfect and that is beautiful...

God is a DJ

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 30 Oct 2018 02:07:00 +0000

Hello Darlings

(Prepare for some cussing here...that's just how I am rolling today...hope I don't offend you...
oh and pour yourself a drink...this may take a while)

It's been a while...I've been busy trying to conquer El Diablo all the while costuming a play...

So let's talk about what is going on.

You see about 2 years ago right about now (almost exactly right now) I told my doctor that I was bleeding, and in pain, and I felt awful...

and because she's the best gyno in the world she looked deeper...

she ran a test...

She wasn't going to just let an ultrasound tell her what was wrong...she decided to run a blood test that CAN (but not always) indicate if there is cancer present.

And that blood test came back with a sky high number.

you all know the story by now...

more tests followed...
a biopsy followed...
pathology discovered cancer...
I had a hysterectomy...

and I DECIDED I DAMN WELL WAS GONNA LIVE....

Because you see I am a UNICORN

A FREAKIN MAGICAL BADASS UNICORN

Because I have a cancer that barely ever gets cured...and most women die...

and I had Stage 4

but because I am a magical unicorn and so badass I'm gonna beat this thing...

and yes, Unicorns can be BADASS...

Because you have to be badass because no one believes you are real

and you have a damn horn in your forehead

and you are basically made of glitter and sparkle

So yeah...I'm a badass...a sparkly badass that is a unicorn as a human.

Because...

I AM FREAKING BEATING THIS DAMN CANCER

yes, you read that right...

EL DIABLO HAS GONE INTO HIDING AND DR ANGEL CAN'T FIND HIM

that's right people---I had a scan and the scan is CLEAR

This is where you jump up and down...burst into tears...scream with joy and DANCE YOUR ASS OFF....

This is where you hit your knees and thank God for answered prayers...

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL...

Now we do need to simmer down for a minute because we have been here before with me...

Back in January I had a good scan

And El Diablo likes to go on vacation every once in a while so he might just be in the Bahamas right now but for today...he is gone...

he is no mas...

for today...

Which in reality means that he could come back from vacay all tanned and happy and ready to make my life miserable again but frankly he isn't getting the welcome mat in my body and I am no Airbnb so he can't visit here anymore...

I had a scan last week...

and I was horribly nervous...

and as I sat in the waiting room waiting for them to take me bet I met two lovely ladies in their 70's who were suffering from their own ailments...

one was having the same back issue I was had last spring...

the other told me she has had a bullet in her spine for the last 22 years...

I sat there and thanked God for my relative health and the fact that I was blessed to have doctors and treatments..

it's all relative people...

I may have cancer but I remember the horrendous pain my spine caused me and I just wanted to take it all away from that sweet lady...

and I might have cancer but I am not walking around with a bullet in my spine...

God has a way of making you remember your place in this world.

So I had a scan but Dr. Angel was having a super busy day and so I could not pester him to read my scan....but on Thursday he was able to take a look at it and so I dropped by to mess up his day and make him do what he does best---look at the blobs on his big computer screen and tell me what he sees.

That man lives up to his name...he is truly and Angel and I'm beyond blessed he takes care of me and puts up with all my nonsense.

I had read the radiology report but frankly I might as well have been reading Chinese because it was a lot of big doctor words that I couldn't understand but I thought it sounded like things were good.

But I really needed him to tell me in plain English (with his beautiful Puerto Rican accent) that the scan didn't show cancer.

HeavenlyHeather waited with me until he had a free moment (the man is scheduled down to the second but somehow he manages to carve out some "unicorn madness time" for me) and kept me calm with fizzy water and hugs...

and then WonderfulKim the nurse came to get me and she was SMILING...and she said he said "hurry up and go get her!"

So I walked in and there was that amazing man smiling broader than I have ever seen him smile and he was HAPPY

And let me tell you when one of your oncologists is happy...

well there is usually a damn good reason for it.

And I got the biggest happiest hug...and just looked at his handsome self beaming....

I plopped myself on the floor right next to him (so I would be closer to the ground in case I passed out from fear, joy, or excitement) and said "tell me what you see"

and he said:

I DON'T SEE ANY CANCER HERE

honestly I can tell you right now those are the most beautiful words in the world to hear...

I scrambled up to hug him again and hugged Kim and I am pretty sure I might have danced a little...

he warned me that this might not be permanent and that only time would tell what we had ahead of us but for that day at that moment

EL DIABLO WAS OUTTA THERE

So yeah...I am basically a unicorn because with the help of Dr. Rockstar and Dr. Angel we made El Diablo do a vanishing act.

In the words of Harry Potter:

EXPELIAMOUS!!!!!

I still wanted to wait until today to hear it again from Dr. Rockstar...

and she walked in the room laughing and saying "so you blew my surprise and scooped me by going downstairs and having him look at your scan!"

yeah...i ruined her surprise but frankly I needed to be able to sleep and so the only option was to take advantage of the fact that Dr Angel will put up with my nonsense and read scans for me.

So Dr. Rockstar was super happy.

Because I told her back in May that I was gonna beat El Diablo and that I was gonna make her famous for fixing me.

She told me today she would rather I be well than her be famous but I think we both are gonna get some kudos for vanquishing He Who Would Not be Vanquished...

so now I still have a bunch of chemo ahead of me...

and tomorrow I once again get to be a vampire and have to have transfusions (appropriate for the day before Halloween...I'm temped to dress as a vampiress....)

and I have to be closely watched...

but honestly right now I think I have this thing beat...I think I am gonna do what no one thought was possible...

I'm gonna be the one that gets to say "I beat cancer"...

Jesus said:

"Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
Matthew 17:20

I have faith greater than a mustard seed...and I said to that mountain "move" and that mountain MOVED...

I've had moments where my faith has been shaken (but not stirred...) and I have fallen on my knees and begged God for mercy and His love and to carry me because I could not walk...

In the past two years I have endured chemotherapy, radiation, hernia surgery, a damaged spine and surgery to repair...

I have had moments where I was so weary of what I was enduring that I literally felt as if I could not be tested or pushed any more...

but because of faith and prayers from all of you I managed to get up and keep going...

I've had pain and gotten through it...

I've had moments where I have felt so alone that it felt like I was cloaked in darkness....but I kept looking for the light...

Because when God gives you a test...a test you can't study for...you sharpen your pencil and get out your calculator and you TAKE THAT DAMN TEST and just do it...

Because God knows you can handle it and so you take that test and ACE it...

Life is never easy...

I've had 2 years of not easy.

I've had 2 years of facing hell and I have had moments where I was afraid I might die.

I've had time where I mourned that I didn't have someone to love me through the hard parts...when I was crying myself to sleep and needed arms to hold me...

I've had moments where it has felt so damn unfair that I had to do all of this...

And I have cried out to God "why me?"

But through it all I have had the love and support of my kids...my Aunt Jane and my family....my students and the teachers and staff at school...and all of you...

I know that I may not have a man to love and hold me when times are hard but I feel all of you surrounding me and keeping me filled with hope and love.

I've had 2 years of facing death...but I prefer to think of it as reaffirming my LIFE.

My priorities with some things are different now.

I say "yes" more...

I seek to explore, relate, expand...

I don't want to miss out on anything...

I want my life to be filled with rainbows and glitter and I'm not ashamed of it.

Because I have survived for 2 years and I plan to survive for so many more.

God asked me to be a warrior.

So I put on armor.

God asked me to be brave.

So I smiled when I was scared.

God asked me to endure so much pain.

So I powered through.

God asked me to walk a path of broken glass and fire.

So I put on my sequin shoes and I RAN ON THAT DAMN PATH.

God asked me to move forward when I couldn't see where I was going.

So I found a light inside myself and used it to see my way.

God asked me to give up some things.

So I gave them up...so I could make space for other things.

God asked me to climb a mountain.

So I found Everest and started climbing.

God asked me to do more than I ever imagined I could.

So I said "yeah...let's do this"

God asked me to have faith.

And I did.

Life does not always go as planned.

But I am going to make plans.

Because I can't sit around and wait for more bad things to happen.

Because I have faith that THIS TIME I'm going to be well.

Doctors can't ever say "you have won" because no one but God knows if we have.

But for now...for now...

A Rockstar and an Angel have told their Unicorn that she can dance.

And so I am dancing...

to the words of Pink:

IF GOD IS A DJ
LIFE IS A DANCEFLOOR
LOVE IS THE RHYTHM
AND YOU ARE THE MUSIC

IF GOD IS A DJ
LIFE IS A DANCEFLOOR
YOU GET WHAT YOU'RE GIVEN
IT'S ALL HOW YOU USE IT

And God wants you to shake your ass...

Get on the dancefloor people...we have some shaking to do...

Inspiration Song: "God is a DJ" by Pink...because life is a dancefloor and I'm going to dance...and the DJ is pretty incredible...

Bye darlings....more soon I promise...but for now...get on the dancefloor and let love be the rhythm...and I love you all...

Bad Blood

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Thu, 09 Aug 2018 03:44:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

Ugh...

Cancer....

Today's bit of fun was 2 blood transfusions...

yes...

once again I got to feel like an escapee from a "Twilight" novel (if you don't know what Twilight is then you didn't have a teenage daughter in the mid 2000's...it was a teen literature book about vampire romance...not kidding...just writing that explanation made my head want to explode).

So although I was not TECHNICALLY a vampire (the blood was given to me in my port so thankfully I was not in full-on Dracula mode) I did get two bags of O positive....

And God bless the beautiful people who donated the blood so I can get over my severe anemia.

But I am sorta getting ahead of myself...

I need to backtrack some and give you a fuller picture of what is going on with your unicorn cancer queen here.

And the road will be a bit bumpy because Monday was....well I'll get to it...

Let's rewind to Thursday.

Thursday I had a CT scan.

I was scared to death...that scan was gonna reveal if all of this chemo is working or not.

And then I was gonna have to wait until Monday when I saw Dr. Rockstar to hear all about it...

or did I....

hmmmmm.....

downstairs in that very building where the scan took place was my favorite doctor...
who just happens to be a radiology oncologist...
and who I knew was in the building....
and he knows how to read a scan better than anyone...
and I know he puts up with a lot of my nonsense...

and I kinda figured if I flipped my hair and batted my green eyes and begged please (and brought him his favorite coffee) that maybe he would take pity on me and look at my scan.

So I marched to Starbucks and grabbed a coffee and headed to Dr. Angel's office armed with blonde roast coffee and a blonde woman's determination that he could put my mind at ease...

bless the poor man's heart but it had been a day for him (his first without his trusted amazing PA Sweet Jessica) but he still found some time for me and my nonsense and we settled into his office to "look at the blobs" as I say.

I told him I was about to spend the weekend with some of my dearest best girls and we needed a reason to drink frose.

Bless him he didn't know what frose was but I told him it was a drink girls really really like and that he didn't need to know more about it and that we also had some bubbly (that he understood)....we needed a celebration....

He pulls up scans and starts showing me all the scary blobs and I am just kneeling beside his chair clutching wildly at his arm asking:

"IS THAT GOOD?!?!?!"

(by the way he offered me a chair but at that moment I wanted to see that screen as well as I could and I honestly was on my knees praying)

When it was all said and done he said some of the lymph glands were shrinking and that things looked to be improving.

So in other words...

THE TREATMENT IS REALLY WORKING PEOPLE

ok we need to dance again...

This is not a drill...

this is a "go" people....

get your asses up and start doing a praise dance....

hell twerk if you want...

do an interpretive dance...

make jazz hands...

spirit fingers....

do a hula....

pas de deux...

do the Cotton Eyed Joe....

Cha Cha Slide...

disco...

JUST DANCE

because that is what I did....

I hugged that precious man (who honestly did not have to read the scans of an overly anxious woman but I think I have made myself into enough of a pest that he just does my bidding to keep me from running amok in the Medical Center).

I told his resident (or whoever the guy was that was in the office with us) that I am basically that kid that gets into an elevator with you and smashes his hand onto ALL the buttons---I am the trouble maker.

The resident just looked confused...bless his heart he is gonna need a seat belt to deal with me...

I should come with a warning label.

So once I was assured that things seemed to be improving (and warned that he was just giving it a glance and needed more time to see it and the report) I let him get back to the business of saving lives with radiation and I headed to GOTT'S house to assure him that 1) I wasn't gonna die and 2) that if he can make Mary Poppins fly (for our musical) I can make her look amazing doing it...

Then I headed off for a girl's weekend with some women I have known since we needed Clearasil and had perfect "wings" in our hair and had a mighty good time just resting...

because I was tired...

because of my bad blood...

In all my excitement of "these scans look pretty good" I managed to distract myself from the fact that just walking to my car got me tired.

So I rested and the girls kept me going and we had a dandy time.

it was just what I needed.

My hemoglobin had dived to under "8" (normal is 12-16...10 is low for a cancer patient)

(Note to all: self care includes spending time with people who lift your heart...I've had that two weekends in a row...and this weekend my TonyFab is coming to town so I'm spending my time with humans who carry me when I can't carry myself)

Monday I went to get chemo #7 and found out that Dr. Rockstar was in Italy (with her twins God bless her!) and so I got to see her fabulous PA Sweet Jasmin and she delivered the news that the report on my scan revealed some reduction in the size of some lymph glands and others were "stable" and no new growth had started.

(you may continue to dance....)

GOOD NEWS

Not as good as "no evidence of disease" (NED) but it appears that my boyfriend NED is playing coy with me and making me wait on him.

That's ok...absence makes the heart grow fonder so it will be all the sweeter when he comes dancing back into my life.

I also found out that my CA125 level is down to 14.3 which is nearly my baseline (but I didn't learn that until Tuesday)

MORE GOOD NEWS

(dance some more...I think it is time someone breakdances)

But all of that was wrapped up in the fact that my blood levels were low and I am anemic and I had to have transfusions today.

Now one would think that despite this all seemingly pretty good news and having just had two fabulous girls weekends that I would be in a pretty good headspace.

But Monday got me...

and the headspace was...

not too bueno....

I've always been open with y'all here and I am gonna come right out and admit that for a bit of time on Monday I contemplated throwing in the towel.

I told Aunt Jane that I wondered if all this time and money being spent on me was worth it and if I ever really would conquer this disease. If I can really beat it.

And that maybe I should just give it up and let nature and this disease take its course.

And Aunt Jane reminded me that I don't give in easily and I rarely give up.

But for a while, despite the good news, I felt DEFEATED.

You can have all the good things in front of you but still feel like something is off.

And I, for a brief moment, had a lack of faith in myself and what was happening with me.

I laid in that bed in the cancer center and while poison dripped into my body I wondered for a moment if it was all worth it.

or was I just putting off the inevitable...

I felt scared...and alone....and shaken...

Aunt Jane gave me some time to work through it and I looked at the bag of poison hanging above my head and had a chat with myself.

And I said: (in my head)

HEY YOU STUPID DUMBASS...GOD HAS PROVIDED YOU WITH THE BEST DOCTORS AND THE BEST MEDICINE. IT'S BEEN A HELL OF A ROAD AND THE ROAD IS STILL VERY STEEP AND ROCKY AND SCARY BUT YOU ARE ON THE ROAD. THE ROAD TO LIVING. TO RECOVERY. STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF AND FIGHT.

So I ended my little pity party early and got myself back into a better place.

It's not the first time I have had a crisis of faith about all of this.

I have them a lot.

I just don't talk much about them because it does no good to do so.

or at least I thought so.

but then I realized thanks to the statistics that this blog site keeps that more than 12 of you read my blog.

The last one was read by over 1000 people

(who ARE you people?)

and that maybe there are a few of you out there that are also struggling with whatever demon has hold of your life.

Maybe you are lonely...
or maybe you are depressed...
or ill...
or in a bad relationship...
or have a sick loved one...
or in financial trouble...
or lost your job...
or lost your home...

and maybe it's just that your jeans that fit last week don't fit this week (hey that gets me pretty down in the dumps too so I am not making light of it)

whatever it is that causes you to pause and wonder "what is the point" I'm pretty sure we have all felt that way one way or another.

So I decided to share with you that I, the most positive unicorn in the world, has times when things do not look like a Lisa Frank picture (and if you don't know who Lisa Frank is then you don't have a kid or are a kid born in the 90's or late 80's...Google it...it might make your head explode).

I had a grand pity party for myself.

Which made no sense since I had just been told things were looking up.

But I feel like I am fighting SO HARD to conquer this stuff and IT WON'T GO AWAY.

And I JUST WANT TO GET ON WITH MY LIFE.

(sorry for all the shouting....the breakdancers are being loud in the back)

So yeah...for about an hour on Monday I wondered what my purpose was in all of this and if it was all worth it.

I had a crisis of faith.

Wasn't the first time.
Won't be the last.

I tend to get in my own way a lot.

like a lot a lot

Where I just need to push myself aside.

And Monday was one of those days where my faith was being shaken and weirdly I had had sort of good news.

But I think I was feeling (at the time) that it wasn't enough.

I needed MORE.

I wanted MORE positiveness (which I got on Tuesday when I saw the CA125 number).

And I realized that sometimes with cancer things are never enough.

There is never enough time for those who lose their battles.

There is never enough money or insurance for some to even get to fight.

And for me there just sometimes doesn't seem to be enough reassurance that I can and WILL overcome this.

Today as I sit and type this I realize how selfish and foolish it all seems.

I am blessed to have time and to have insurance that pays for my treatments.

But for an hour or so on Monday I felt mighty sorry for myself and felt like giving up.

There I said it.

I FELT LIKE GIVING UP

I felt like yanking out my central line to my port and just walking out and taking my chances.

And I knew my chances were about as good as they would be for me to run across I-10 during rush hour traffic while wearing a blindfold and all the drivers are blindfolded too...

so I stayed in the chemo bed and finished out my sentence with the poison and decided that I needed an attitude adjustment...

but when I got home I realized that there is nothing at all wrong with having a crisis of faith and to wonder if a something is worth fighting for

I AM HUMAN

I can't be perfectly happy and positive all the time.

There are times when it is almost unreasonable to stay positive.

And despite good news I struggled and while I have yet to figure out why I just wanted to lay it all out there for you people and to raise my hand and say:

I AM NOT ALWAYS GOING TO BE COOL WITH THIS CANCER

So my friends there you have it....I am not always a pillar of strength and courage.

And I am so grateful to have all of you around to keep me swimming even when I can't...it's like you hand me a lifeguard's float thing and I grab it and you pull me to shore.

My Aunt Jane has a way of saving me...and Monday she saved me by reminding me that I am not a girl who gives up.

Once upon a time I was a wee girl and Aunt Jane was a teenager and we were in Hawaii. Jane was watching my sisters and me and I was standing in the surf.

All of a sudden a big wave came and covered me up...Jane ran into the surf to try to find me in the wave and somehow my hand was sticking out.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety.

And on Monday she did the same thing when she told me that it wasn't like me to just throw in the towel.

She let me have my crisis (just like she let me play in the surf) but when the wave came to get me she pulled me out.

I hope all of you who have some sort of crisis of faith or love or direction have someone who grabs your hand and pulls you out of the surf.

Because at some point we are all in the surf and the waves are coming...

and we can run back onto the beach

or we can play in the surf

and as long as we have someone who loves us to watch us as we splash we are safe.

So my beloveds I ask of you to watch out for your friends in the surf...and if they seem to be unsafe please stick your hand in and pull them to safety.

We are human...we have moments when we need someone to grab our hands.

I will need it more than I can say over the next few years.

And I will be honest enough with you to say that there are times I feel the undertow and I can feel the waves pulling me into the darkness and the sand and out to sea...

but I have all of you (and my dearest Aunt Jane) there to grab my hand if I put it out.

And I will stick my hand out when I need to....and Monday I needed to.

So I'm good....

I got my blood...
I got my faith back...
I got a good scan...
I got a good number on my CA125...

and I've got a lot of you rooting for me to come out of the unsafe surf so for a bit I am gonna play on the sand and make drip castles...

and we can all resume our dancing...

So get out there and show me your samba....we can do that on the sand...

Inspiration Song: "Bad Blood" by...NOT Taylor Swift! But by Neil Sedaka with background vocals from Sir Elton John...always been a favorite of mine...

Bye Darlings....I hated to admit that I wanted to give up but I think I owe it to you to know that I am not perfect and I don't always have all the faith I need...and I know some of you feel that way too so you are not alone...and if you need a hand to pull you out of the surf I am here to do it...

Better Now

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 25 Jul 2018 23:31:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

So first a little update on El Diablo...

I had Chemo #6 this week.

6 down and who knows how many to go.

(no really...who knows...Dr Rockstar said not to even ask when I would "be done" and Dr. Angel told me we might have to treat my cancer like a chronic disease so---who knows..)

So 6 chemos down and my CA125 numbers are going down too.

From 43 down to 17 ("normal" is 0-35)

Now is the part where you all get up and do a happy dance...

I see you back there twerking like Miley---I approve!
and you there doing the Snoopy dance---respect!
you there being a Beyonce---I see you!
and you doing a full on Praise Dance---I love you!
and you, the shy one who is worried what others will think? I said to DANCE DAMMIT...

Those numbers coming down are a GOOD thing so dancing is a must.

Ok dance break over....

take a sip of water and cool down.

So now that I have filled you in on El Diablo I want to talk about Yoga (and other things)...because I am FINALLY back to doing yoga...and yoga is continuing to teach me things.

For me YOGA stands for:

Your
Own
Goals (and)
Aspirations

Because I have learned with yoga (and life) it is a PRACTICE and there is no perfection...no finish...no end game.

In yoga I have a goal to do Half Moon without a block and falling over.

Or tree pose without falling over.

Or dancer...without falling over.

Or eagle...without falling over.

Basically I want to not fall over so much...

A goal is attainable...it's reachable...I can direct effort toward doing it.

(I can also direct effort into doing crow pose but I'm afraid to balance on my arms...so not a goal...yet)

With my yoga practice I aspire to maybe one day be a yoga teacher.

It's just a thought I have and much much more practice and work needs to happen before I ever give it any serious thought or even attempt to take any teacher training but for now it's an aspiration. One that will take many goals to achieve before I can.

I can't do half the poses and I fall over anytime I try to balance.

So why aspire to be a yoga teacher?

Because when I am in a practice it's so much more than just moving my body....it's moving my soul.

And I want to help others make their souls move and dance.

The other day my beautiful JohnJohn had us make magic on the mats...not just by our flow but by actually saying the word "magic"...and it was magical...

As I reached my arms up and said "magic" I felt it...because my soul was moving as my body moved.

My yoga teachers help me set intentions---small goals and ideals on which to focus my practice. I try to hold that intention in my heart as I struggle through class and to hold poses. I try to use each practice as a way to move my day and my life forward.

I want to be in a room full of beautiful souls and help them move and dance to the music as their souls move and dance within themselves...and maybe help them learn something about themselves and how to share breath, space, and love...

Because being a yoga teacher is not just about teaching someone how to do a warrior pose...it's about teaching someone how to be a warrior themself.

I love teaching...I wish I had studied to become a teacher. So I do the next best thing and I work with the very best teacher I know (GOTT...and yes he is the best teacher I know...he teaches those kids way more than just how to act).

I try to teach with my Instagram when I cook something and share a recipe.

And I try to teach with my blog.

I try to find words to inspire, to share love, to make magic...

Before I got sick I would never have imagined myself ever thinking or considering that one day I might want to teach yoga.

I'm terrible at it...(yoga that is)

but being sick has taught me that perfection is not what matters...it's more about the heart than what the body can do.

I am amazed I can even practice.

Every day when I was radiated I tried to spin or do yoga.

My Dr. Angel thought I was crazy.

But he came to realize that what I needed was not rest as much as I needed to MOVE.

I needed to not feel sick.

and I still need to feel that way.

On Monday I had to say goodbye to my favorite Physician's Assistant.

Lovely Jessica is moving to another city where her hubby has a new job. She is Dr. Angel's PA and she has been my rock through my journey with him. And I know she is his rock too.

I was grateful to have a few minutes with her to reflect on what she had done for me and to thank her for it...and to tell her to warn the next PA that I was a handful and that Dr. Angel had a hot mess of a patient (that would be me).

She told me she was always surprised at what I did despite my illness.

My hemoglobin is at an "8" (normal is 12-16 although 10 is the low for a cancer patient)

She told me most people at an 8 stayed in bed.

And I go to spin and yoga.

Because my goal is to keep moving.

And my aspiration is to live like I am not sick.

And as long as I keep moving I will not feel sick.

(plus these days the chemo is fed with a big desire for chocolate chip cookies or cheese so I have no choice but to move)

I'm not going to let a pesky little thing like a low hemoglobin count keep me from pedaling my spin bike or flowing on my mat.

Because to give in and just get in bed is to give up.

And giving up is NOT a goal or aspiration.

So I am pretty sure that no matter where Lovely Jessica ends up she will remember the unicorn hot mess patient she had when she worked with Dr. Angel and I am pretty sure she will use the memory of me to help her help other patients to not feel so sick.

Cancer can be a business of dying or living.

I know because when I was first told I was sick I decided very quickly that there was 2 ways I could chose to go on.

I could choose to be a dying person.

Or I could choose to be a living one.

I chose LIFE.

I chose to live.

And I am not dying.

It's not a goal or aspiration of mine.

My goal is to live each day fully.

My aspiration is to live my life in such a way as to bring honor to my Lord, to inspire others, to show love and to hopefully share my life with a man who loves me.

The "man who loves me" is not a goal because right now I am not doing anything active to make that happen. I want it but I'm not at a place where I am ready to "swipe right" on any dating apps. So for now it is an aspiration and once my beloved doctors tell me how awesome I am doing maybe then I'll be ready for someone to invite me to share a bottle of wine.

So today is my "icky" day...the one where I am tired and my appetite and tummy are funky and I feel like I am recovering from the flu.

So I live today as it is.

I accept that it is a day I will not be active, will not have energy and will take 2-3 naps during the day.

And that's ok...because my goal for today is to just get through it.

And I aspire to not have many more days like this but as long as I have chemo there will be.

But tomorrow will be "normal" again.

And my goal is to do some yoga, hit up the grocery store, and to have dinner with friends.

And I aspire to have a weekend filled with fun, friends, laughter, yoga, a movie, some wine, my "Sunday Service Spin" with my beloved E, and to not live like a cancer patient.

Life is never 100% easy.

Some people will glide through life with what appears to be no issues but I honestly don't believe anyone doesn't have a trial of some sort in life.

Others get a full plate of things to overcome (hello...yes, that is me...but guess what...I think it's just a salad plate of stuff and not a whole dinner plate).

And each day our goal should be to squeeze the life out of every minute of our day.

I want to close my eyes each night feeling like I did some good in this world.

Because I don't know if I have a year or many yearS left in this life (I'm a betting woman so I am going for yearS) but whatever time God is giving me here I aspire to be His instrument and end each day being a better human than I was the day before.

And my goal is to teach someone something with the words I say here...

And I'm going to live each day like a yoga practice:

I start each morning with a gentle stretch---getting up, getting coffee and breakfast and starting my day with intention to move through the day with love and light

and then I warm up and so some Sun A's---the usual things we do daily to make our lives work...pay bills, return calls and emails, go to work...

at some point I get to be in warrior stance---I'll do something that makes me feel strong, sexy and powerful like working out or trying something new...

and then I will hit a balancing pose---I will likely fall over doing something I do or mess up in some way but life is messy and yoga is messy and we all survive even when we fall over.

and at another point I will seek refuge in child's pose and give in to letting something go...

And then I will stretch some more---cook my dinner or maybe meet up with friends

And then Savassanah---rest....where I settle in and let the day go and let my body prepare for the next day.

In between there is a lot of breath, poses, falling over, gripping blocks....and there is sweat, and sometimes tears, and much love...

Life is like a yoga class to me...

I start and end in my bed and there is a whole lot of moving in between.

And I am grateful for the moving...

and for the falling over...

and for the breath....

because I am getting to live...to set goals and aspire to do things...

and the sweaty mess that I am at the end of it is happy...

Inspiration Song: "Better Now" by Post Malone. My favorite song to spin to these days and one that makes me realize that despite cancer I am better now than I was before cancer.

Bye darlings...be better now....and set your goals and aspirations and let it be messy while you get there...I'm a hot mess and I know it...but I am a grateful hot mess...

Don't Rain on my Parade

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Tue, 10 Jul 2018 23:51:00 +0000

Hello Darlings

On July 4th I had a bit of an adventure...

While Houston flooded I got stranded...

I literally sat parked on the Interstate for 3.5 hours (give or take...)

But I am getting ahead of myself.

I had a bike booked at Revolution for the 10:30 spin class with #myboys KuteKris and KuteJohn and I was determined I was going to pre-game the 4th of July party I was attending later by working off the calories ahead of time.

Because of corn dip.

Because of TotallyAwesomeTodd's corn dip.

Because it is my drug of choice.

Dear Todd's Corn Dip,
I love you
Forever
Let's be a couple
Forever
Fritos will be included in our love triangle
Forever
Because you are delicious
love,
Anice (who waits all year to love you)

Todd and I have a deal: I make queso (if you are very nice to me I will teach you my ways...and yes it is still Velveeta) and he makes corn dip.

I stand there and shovel in all the corn dip I can with Fritos.

I strategically place myself closest to the corn dip and Frito after Frito will be loaded with corn dip and zoomed into my mouth.

And then I eat a hot dog...and then I return to my love the corn dip.

It's witchcraft...

So I knew there would be hot dogs, and desserts (KuteKari made a lemon pound cake...more on that later), and THE CORN DIP. Oh and Marvelous Megan made the most extraordinarily perfect deviled eggs I have ever had.

I don't even eat my own queso...I save it all for the corn dip.

So Wednesday when the rain started to fall I thought about cancelling my bike and just staying home.

But...#corndip

So I got dressed for spin in my blue tank and my red, white, and blue headband...

And as I was dressing warning messages began to invade my head space:

Danger Will Robinson! Don't go out!!!!

It's Raining (sadly not raining men) and it might flood

The news says "possible street flooding"

You might not get back into the neighborhood!

But I got dressed anyway.

And as I got in my car and pulled out of my driveway the warning messages kept invading my brain.

And as I drove out of my neighborhood EVERY INSTINCT told me to turn around.

But alas I didn't...

Because #corndip

So I make it as far as 59 and I am approaching my exit and I see a line of cars in the exit lane...and as I pass over Buffalo Speedway I see cars are exiting the service road and going into the gas station parking lot...and as I look at the feeder road I see that it looks more like a lake than a street.

And I look at the time and I see no cars are actually exiting the exit.

Time for me to exit my plan of going to spin.

My heart sinks as I realize I will miss my boys and because #corndip the diet will be a wreck.

I call to cancel my bike and try to figure out what I will do next.

Because that lake on the street is getting bigger...

So I call someone I know will help me and I know she lives close and can see what is going on...

HeavenlyHeather to the rescue (I shall refer to her as HH for the rest of this blog for typing ease).

HH answers her phone and I tell her my dilemma...

and she looks out her window and tells me NOT to exit the freeway because I am in Beyonce the 4 Runner and not an ark or boat...

So then we begin to try to figure out where and how I can turn around and get back to the west side of town safely.

Because I am #sodamnsmart I decide that the PERFECT route is to go to I-45 and swing around downtown on the freeway and then get on I-10 because it's the BEST way to go and NEVER floods

(except that it gets flooded out EVERY SINGLE TIME IT RAINS ONE RAINDROP)

yeah...I-10 is the way to go...

it's an Interstate...

I'll be fine...

Danger Will Robinson!

But I keep on with my plan...

And I get onto 10 and hit some traffic and we slow to a crawl and then pretty much stop.

I'm still on the phone with HH who is watching the news so she can give me updates...

So we stop...the whole interstate shuts down...

I see a chance to escape but the water is rising and I worry it will be too much for my little SUV.

I see a Mustang GT that was trying to get up the off ramp but is stranded and flooded out. (had a dealer window sticker so someone must have been having a hell of a test drive)

I decide to take my chances with the freeway.

Bad call...

HH tells me that up ahead of me the freeway is under water and there is a Toyota basically floating around in it and that some fool in a $70,000 truck decided that he was gonna testosterone his way though (he made it...no clue about the Toyota).

I see no cars coming in the opposite direction so I surmise that the other side is also flooded and shut down.

I tell HH that there is a Blue Bell Ice Cream truck next to me and I might have to break in...but alas I see it is locked (duh) and besides I must save my calories for the crack...I mean #corndip.

So the Blue Bell truck was safe from my larceny but as time wore on I did wonder what I had in my car that could pick a lock. We weren't going anywhere and I was getting hungry.

Then the thought strikes me I might need to go potty.

Uh oh...

I have had pelvic radiation...no telling how strong that bladder is but this would be a good test.

I turn off my engine (we are not moving), I tell HH that I will call her or text her (yes, it was safe to text---WE WEREN'T MOVING) and I look around for the "what if I have to pee" provisions...

RTIC Cup
Towel for privacy

But mercifully I did not have to go (and yay my bladder held for the whole ordeal---Dr Angel promised me he would preserve my organs and he was right...and did a great job that's why he is my Angel and the best at what he does)

And I also figured the beach towel would come in handy if I did decide to walk about and visit my neighboring cars and trucks. It was still raining but not heavily. I might have needed to visit the Blue Bell man...and my friend Super Stephanie was just ahead of me so I considered messaging her and trying to find her in the sea of non-moving cars...

(and I can now tell you that Beyonce the 4 Runner will never get on the road again without at least one beach towel in her because I hate to be wet)

So what does one do to amuse oneself while parked on the Interstate?

Social Media of course!

I wanted ERRRRRBODY to know that I was stuck so since I was safely parked (as was everyone around me) I posted to Insta and FB and the sympathy began to roll in.

I had one dear friend offer me her home as refuge with a comfy couch and wine and her company....MarvelousMaddy I love you....

At some point I got to crawl forward about the length of two semis which sadly took me out from under the overpass so I just sat there and listened to the rain for a bit, kept checking social media, texted my daughter to let her know where my will was (kidding) but did warn her to get the queso for the party started.

I called GOTTESS to make sure I was still going to get to eat corn dip...er, I mean to check to see if the party was still on and told her my plight. She had grand amounts of sympathy for me as did most of my social media friends. And HH kept checking in on me and gave me updates.

(HH is a great wingman...she was great at watching the news and reporting to me as well as keeping me calm)

After about 3 hours I noticed some cars beginning to go UP the on ramp (they were exiting the on ramp...basically going the wrong way) and then we began to inch forward and I began the Battle with the Big Trucks.

I'm in a 4 Runner

And I am surrounded by 18 wheelers

Guess who is gonna win...

(if you said the semis then you don't know me very well)

I couldn't see the cops ahead of me but from what I was seeing to my right someone was directing all the traffic up to a point and turning us around and sending us up that on ramp. Because there are so many big trucks I figured that they were going to have to use the entire width of the freeway to turn around.

I was firmly planted in the far left desirable lane.

And of course the truck guys want to play "get outta my way little lady" but I am the fairness police and I had cars behind me that needed to get out too so I decided that the "zipper" method was the only fair thing and I wasn't going to let 6 trucks in front of me...we can all take turns.

Sure enough as one guy is trying to cut me off a knight in shining armor appears (a cop) and he motions me to go and tells the truck to wait...

Truck guy was not happy but I do what the cops tell me to do.

So I FINALLY got turned around after sitting in the parking lot that was once I-10 for about 3.5 hours.

I got off the freeway and found another route home (that was not flooded) and called HH back so I could tell her I got free and we laughed at the bravery of the woman in the Mini Cooper who was following behind me as I headed down Memorial Drive and at the poor man in the Porsche with the doctor vanity plates who was not risking his fancy testosterone machine with the flood waters.

(note to self: maybe don't date the guy who drives a Porsche...that's why you say you always want a man in a big ass truck...although a nice safe sedan is just fine too).

So in all that time I had to amuse myself while trying not to chug my water and go insane while I was living my best life on the freeway that was not moving I had some time to think.

About patience...
and about listening to the voice in my head...
and about maybe not doing something I know is stupid...
and about not being so stubborn...
and about how lucky I am to have friends who stay on the phone with me to keep me from freaking out
and about how to just accept that I am not in control of something
and about how lucky I was to have a full tank of gas and an empty bladder
and about not taking I-10 during a rainstorm

Cancer has taught me so much about control...or rather my lack of it.

I've lived a good "safe" fairly "clean" life other than being overweight.

And yet here I sit with cancer...a deadly vicious one at that.

A mother of two who's greatest vice is tacos.

So I have no control of my cancer...

(And while I am mentioning this I have a soapbox moment: please stop believing and posting the social media memes and videos that tell you that if you eat/drink something or diet in some particular way that it will cure cancer....if it was that easy I am pretty sure MD Anderson and Memorial Hermann (and my spectacular doctors) would just be feeding us lemons/alkaline foods/keto/whatever and cure the cancers. It's not that simple. Lemons are not going to make my cancer go away...I WISH I had that kind of control over it...getting off soapbox)

I had no control over the freeway that day so I decided to make the best of it by talking to a friend and just keeping calm.

Had this same scenario happened to me 2 or 3 years ago I would have been panicked and ready to just abandon my car and run.

Cancer has taught me how to be still...accept what I truly can't change....to do what I can to change what I can and to know that GOD HAS GOT THIS.

I do, however, need to listen and pay attention to the "Danger Will Robinson!" voice in my head and maybe next time when I am setting out to do something stupid I should take head of that voice and HAVE SOME CONTROL and not do it. I knew when I got into my car I was making a mistake...

We do have control there...we need to listen to the voice of reason that tells us not to take the WRONG kind of chances.

But I am so damn stubborn I am pretty sure that at some point I will fail at this again and set out and do something stupid again.

As for having a full tank of gas and an empty bladder...well that is a roll of the dice people...I try to keep the tank filled but I have days where Beyonce the 4 Runner is telling me "Danger Will Robinson!"...

I did finally make it home 5 hours (almost to the minute) after I set out.

Next time I am in the car for 5 hours I better be headed somewhere fun like Baton Rouge or Dallas or the Hill Country...I don't want to spend 5 hours on the interstate again and not go anywhere.

I did make it to the very fun party and yes I ate loads and loads of #corndip and Kari's yummy cake and so many of Megan's deviled eggs I am pretty sure I smelled like eggs for days. And it was all worth it.

So here's my advice:
eat the corn dip
stay off the roads when they say it might flood

it's that simple...

Inspiration Song: "Don't Rain on my Parade" by Barbra Streisand...because even though it rained and I got stranded that day was a lot like my cancer--my cancer is trying to rain on my parade of my life and I just won't let it...that day still turned out GREAT (and I got #corndip) and El Diablo will not get me...because waiting for me at the end of all of this is my Nicky Arnstein and he's going to be waiting for me just like Omar Shariff was waiting for Barbra...CANCER WILL NOT RAIN ON MY PARADE--I HAVE TOO MUCH TO LIVE FOR

Lyrics

Don't tell me not to live
Just sit and putter
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade

Don't tell me not to fly
I've simply got to
If someone takes a spill
It's me and not you
Who told you you're allowed
To rain on my parade

I'll march my band out
I'll beat my drum
And if I'm fanned out
Your turn at bat, sir
At least I didn't fake it
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it
But whether I'm the rose
Of sheer perfection
Or freckle on the nose
Of life's complexion
The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye
I gotta fly once
I gotta try once
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, life is juicy
Juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir
Get ready for me, love
'Cause I'm a commer
I simply gotta march
My heart's a drummer
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade

I'm gonna live and live now
Get what I want, I know how
One roll for the whole show bang
One throw, that bell will go clang
Eye on the target and wham
One shot, one gun shot, and bam
Hey, Mister Arnstein
Here I am
I'll march my band out
I will beat my drum
And if I'm fanned out
Your turn at bat, sir
At least I didn't fake it
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it
Get ready for me, love
'Cause I'm a commer
I simply gotta march
My heart's a drummer
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade

Bye Darlings---don't let anyone (or any actual rain) ruin your parade...eat the corn dip, have a full tank of gas, stay off the roads when it's storming and don't rain on anyone else's parade either...and I'll let you know when Mr. Arnstein comes for me...I'll be Barbra in the tugboat singing my heart out to get to him...

No Tears Left To Cry

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 20 Jun 2018 01:44:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

well after the cluster that was round 1 of chemo I am happy to say that Round 2 went a lot better...and round 3 even better (I got the pharmacologist to reduce the devil drug Decadron i.e. the "everclear" in the "trash can punch") and other than a little tiredness (and just one day of feeling like I had the flu) and a bit of nausea (but not getting sick) I did great....

I hope that first time was just a hiccup and that I had picked up a bug and this is not how chemo will go because I don't really like the idea of ending up in the hospital again.

I have better things to do with my weekend.

Things like:
pedicures
watching Pioneer Woman and Trisha's Southern Cooking
petting cats
folding laundry
cooking and making bone broth
sitting in my easy chair
sleeping
sorting mail
spin class
rearranging the dishes in the dishwasher
unloading the dishwasher
staring into my refrigerator
taking showers
doing costume research
playing on social media
being a human cat bed
floating in my aunt's pool
watching Netflix

you get the picture...I lead a terribly boring life...spin class, floating in my aunt's pool and the occasional pedicure are a high point but all of it is better than being in the hospital.

So thankfully I got a boring weeks at home of flipping channels and cooking and was not flipping channels from a hospital bed.

So today I want to blog about starting over again...

because that is what I am having to do with my exercise...

I have had a frustrating 9 months.

Starting in October when my blood got all funky and they got worried I might fall over and hit my little head I had to pull back on the yoga and frankly struggled to get through spin class.

It's a little hard to get your heart rate up and pumping if you have no hemoglobin and are struggling to breathe.

So I got thrown in the hospital and got to feel like a character in the movie "Twilight" as I was given bags of blood to help me get stronger.

Then I had the hernia surgery so no bike or mat for 7 weeks.

Then I got back to it and hit it with a vengeance...

I got in my 60 classes in 60 days and hit my 600th ride and 200th yoga.

I felt like a damn rockstar.

or at least not like a 53 year old cancer patient...

no, I'm gonna stand by the rockstar comment...or badass...you chose...

I felt amazing and I was riding that bike like a boss and flowing like a goddess.

I hadn't felt that good in 3 years...

not kidding....

and then all hell broke loose with my spine...

and I went from a little back pain...to struggling to walk long distances....to struggling to walk at all and not being able to sit in a chair....to pain like I have never had and it was unrelenting and constant.

So then spinal fusion surgery...

and then back to chemo...

So I finally got back on a bike May 24th...my 4 year anniversary of riding at Revolution Studio and I can tell you it has been 4 years of challenging joy. 4 years where I have loved each ride. 4 years of finding a sanctuary for my soul. 4 years of a tribe of people who I consider family.

But having been off the bike since March 7th took a toll on my body, muscles, fitness, strength, and overall ability to fully participate in class.

My heart rate---once so trained that it would jump up into my "zone" and stay there through class struggled to get up to my training zone because I can't pedal as hard or stand up.

My stamina---improving so much during January and February was nill...I just prayed to sit in the saddle and pedal and not give up before class ended. I've been talking to Jesus a lot...a whole lot...

My muscles---firming up and strong enough for heavier weights and looking good in my heels I was loving to wear once again became mush. My calves are the texture of my Tempurpedic mattress and I won't even discuss my thighs and glutes.

My core---so strong thanks to all the yoga and spin became a shadow of itself. Where I could once balance and hold myself up so well on the bike I can now only come up for about 10 seconds before needing to retreat back to the saddle (and lest you worry that I should not be doing this I have my surgeon's and oncologists' blessing).

My legs---once able to pedal fast to the beat and push hard tension on a climb are now just barely able to pedal for the whole 45 minutes at the bare minimum tension for each turn the instructor requests. And what little speed I was able to do it with is GONE...

My arms----once able to do 3 lb weights for the arm section (it's harder than it sounds) and finally able to stabilize myself as I did many many chaturangas in yoga can barely hold up 2 lb weights during arms on the bike. They are just flabby chicken wings that jiggle with every movement.

It's all so depressing....and I'm not gonna lie I cried after that first class back because I was so upset with what my body had turned in to.

I've fought so hard to go from looking like the female equivalent of the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man (or the Michelin Man) to someone who can once again wear heels and a cute dress and feel good about herself in it.

I've lost 70 lbs

I spent the better part of last year in tents and tennis shoes.

And a few weeks ago when something didn't fit right I had to have a little chat with myself...

and I realized that I have had more done to me in the last 6 months (medically) than some people have in a lifetime: blood transfusions, hernia, spinal fusion surgery, chemotherapy...and add that to the radiation and chemo I had leading up to it...IT'S A LOT Y'ALL....

And when I looked in the mirror and wanted to cry because everything had gone SOFT I realized that even warriors are not perfect all the time.

Warriors have to train to be ready to fight...

you don't just go from "woman" to "Wonder Woman" without some effort...

and right now I am back to square one...

ugh...

and I miss yoga so much I can barely stand to look at the yoga room...

one instructor invited me to come in and just sit and soak it in and oh I was tempted to but whereas I can modify myself on the bike, when it comes to yoga if I saw the flow start I would just have to get up and dance on my mat...I would not be able to resist doing a prayer twist (completely forbidden) and I would have to half moon for sure...

ugh...

so the other day before I climbed onto a bike in Marvelous Mel's class I had a chat with myself as I drove to Revolution.

And it went something like this:

Hey Anice!
Wake up you nimnull...
you have been through a lot in the last 6 months!
so what if you can't keep up in position 3...so what if you can't do a left lead while standing (you have never been able to do left lead easily)...so what if you have to sit through 90% of class...
it's ok...
you are there...
you are in the room...
and as Marevelous Mel says "it's not about perfection" (yes baby girl I LISTEN to you)
it's about being present

And so when I climbed on the bike I had a new attitude about it and class went by so fast..and of course when she played "I'm Alive" by Sia I couldn't help but cry and was so grateful that I am alive and I needed to quit worrying about my weight and my mushy muscles and all the other nebulous things that really didn't matter.

Throughout this journey with cancer I have had to learn so many things about myself and have had to change my attitude about so many things.

And it's all part of it.

And the big thing I have learned is that I am not just facing death.

I'm facing CHANGE

and nothing is as I expected it to be.

And cancer or not, it rarely is.

We are all thrown curveballs in life:

deaths
marriages
children
divorces
illness
loss of job
change in income
loss of home

so my cancer isn't the only change in life I have dealt with...but it has been not only the most life-changing---it's also been the most life-affirming and perception altering event in my world.

I've lost my parents and grandparents

I got married

I had kids

I got divorced

I moved houses

and I got sick.

All "normal" things...things many of us go through...

I knew all my life I would get married and have kids and probably live in a house or two.

I knew at some point I would lose my parents.

And a few years into my marriage I was pretty sure I would get divorced.

But getting sick is NOT something anyone plans on or expects to deal with in your life.

You don't just go into this world waiting for the day when you are told you have an illness.

(And when you do you go into shock...and you hit your knees and you seek God real fast).

So the shock and reality of my illness was just that---shock.

Life is a road and we hit speed bumps.

And sadly my speed bump is the size of Everest.

And right now I feel like I am climbing Everest...each day moving closer to the summit (when I am well...when I am NED...when the disease is gone) and base camp is so far below I can't see it anymore.

People who climb Everest are brave...strong....strong willed...gutsy...and just a wee bit crazy.

I have a lock on the crazy...the other part I have had to gain...

more strength....

more bravery...

more guts...

So now starting over on my fitness feels like trekking back to a lower part on the mountain.

But that's ok...

sometimes you have to climb down to climb up.

And I am learning that a step backwards is not always just going backwards...sometimes you have to step back to move forward...

like backing up to catch a fly ball...

or backing up to take a running start...

So maybe all this "backing up" with my fitness is not just a move backwards but rather a way for me to move forward...

and I am inching forward and not launching myself forward like I did in January when I started over after the hernia surgery.

I kind of feel like I am playing the game of Monopoly and I kept getting sent back to the start corner...or playing "Sorry" and someone has made my token go back to start.

But the good news is I am not "in jail" or in a timeout I'm just at the beginning again.

And soon my core will gain strength, and my heart rate will return to a trained state, and my muscles will be less mushy and more firm and the weight will continue to come off and once my spine is good and healed I can wear my high heels again.

It will take time.

And I am blessed to have time.

So the other day I put on a dress that I had purchased but the first time I tried it on it almost ended up in the Goodwill pile. But I hung it back in the closet and said "soon"...

So I put it on the other day and although I didn't look "perfect" in it I looked damn good.

Heavenly Heather and I now refer to it as "The Dress" because when I wore it the other day I had a lot of very sweet people tell me I looked great (including Dr. Angel---and this time when he told me I looked amazing he did not follow it with a "but your cancer..." so yay for compliments without being told bad news!). I wore it last night to Aunt Jane's birthday dinner and felt good in it.

Every girl needs a "The Dress" in her closet that she can go to when she wants to feel good.

(Mine happens to be from kiragrace.com and it's called the "Goddess Corset Yoga Dress". It's made of the same fabric that they make their yoga clothes out of so its a bit compressive and smooths out the bad bits. And because it is athletic fabric it is moisture wicking and keeps me cool and dry on those days when it is hotter than the surface of the sun outside. Athleta also makes some similar dresses...)

You will see me in it a lot this summer...

Pretend I didn't just wear it yesterday, mmk?

Because all it takes for me to decide to live in something is to have a handsome man tell me I look pretty in something (even if it is my sweet doctor...he's still a handsome man!)

See how helpful I am? You can all go shopping now...

And I am going to get dressed and go spin...because these mushy muscles need to pedal and I need to set my soul right and now that I have found forgiveness for my steps backward.

My cancer journey is a learning journey.

I'm learning each day more about myself...growing in ways I never thought was possible.

Finding forgiveness for my imperfections and stumbles and steps backward has been a challenge but I now know that my life is not on a straight forward trajectory.

My life is a series of stops and starts and and not a smooth path but rather one of hills and valleys.

And I am not alone in having a life that does that...most of us do.

Sometimes we get sent back to the start and we begin again...sometimes we have to stop in the middle and reset...sometimes we have to run backward to keep going forward.

I'm running backward right now but it's only so I can have more room to launch myself forward...

Look out...I'm gonna keep going...

Because I won't stop until I reach the top...the summit is ahead and I will reach it...

Inspiration Song: "No Tears Left to Cry"---because I am obsessed with it...and because I'm not gonna cry about it any more...I'm lovin, I'm livin, and pickin it up...

Right now, I'm in a state of mind
I wanna be in, like, all the time
Ain't got no tears left to cry
So I'm pickin' it up, pickin' it up (oh yeah)
I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up

Bye darlings...I'm learning that life is a series of forward and backwards moves...maybe I should have learned to play chess...in any case I'll keep starting over as long as I am given the chance to....

Dance with my Father

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 18 Jun 2018 01:43:00 +0000

I'm gonna take a quick break from all the sturm und drang that is my cancer blogging and talk today about my Daddy. It's Father's Day and it's been rough on me for the last 24 years that he has been gone. Today I am feeling all the feels and so I just want to let it out for a bit...back to cancer soon...maybe even later this week if I finish my "I started this 3 weeks ago" blog...

Hello Darlings and Happy Father's Day!

I'm sending love and best wishes to all the dads out there.

I lost my Daddy in 1994.

I miss him every single day.

Every
Single
Day

I woke up this morning and so wished I could call him or better yet be with him at his house so I could get up and treat him to breakfast.

I found a photo of him and me when I was a baby and posted it on social media and then the tears started.

Going through these last few years has been rough not having him around.

I miss his wisdom and I miss his humor.

I think he would love having an adult relationship with my kids and I think he would be very proud of how I handled my divorce and building a life alone and most especially how I have handled my cancer.

Many of you who read this blog knew my dad.

Bobby was a man of great charm.

To know him was to love him.

He wasn't always easy to deal with (ask Super Sharon his former assistant) but most of the time he was someone you just wanted to be around.

I think he could charm a snake just with his grin...

My dad told great stories.

I think it is where I get my love of being a storyteller comes from.

I only wish I had made him write some of them down.

And oh how he loved horses and cars.

He was never happier than when he was in the saddle or driving.

When he had his heart attack and the docs told him he might not be able to ride or drive he said "well then let me die..."

He never sat pretty in the saddle.

Far from it.

He had a way of riding that we called "the funky chicken" because his arms would flap about.

He was put on a saddle as soon as he could sit up and he developed more horse sense than any man I ever knew. And he wasn't too bad with the cattle either...

He won a World Cutting Championship (in the most ugly way possible) and was once featured riding hard on the cover of Fortune magazine.

He would come home from working cattle and would pretty much be a filthy dirty mess...but he loved every minute of it and I'm pretty sure his soul roams the Laureles division of the King Ranch looking after the cattle and the turkeys and deer.

Daddy loved to hunt but was always respectful of the animals he killed. We ate them or he gave the meat to friends. Hunting was sport but he also treated it as part of the circle of life.

He once killed an elephant (the elephant was old and sick and he was asked to put it down because he was a crack shot). He said it was the hardest kill of his life. He didn't speak much of it but he was gifted with the tusk (this was in the 60's) and some of the hide. He had boots made from the hide and he loved them so much we buried him in those boots.

He loved to hunt so much that he turned a car into a hunting vehicle.

He took a Tornado and had the roof and doors removed and had the King Ranch Saddle Shop make him rifle scabbards to go on the sides.

He would fly that thing (yes it had wheels but he made it FLY) around the King Ranch and once took his good friend Captain Pete Conrad for a ride in it. Pete was an astronaut. 2nd moonshot. Walked on the moon. He took my dad to a lift off for one of the Apollo missions and when my dad felt the rumbling of the Saturn rocket he asked Pete:

"how the hell did you handle all that rumbling and roughness?"

Pete answered: "because I drove across the King Ranch with you in your hunting car---it was great training!"

Yeah, to ride with Daddy was always an adventure.

When my stepmother gifted him with a Porsche one Christmas he couldn't wait to drive.

He made up an excuse to drive into Ingram and I was the unlucky and unwilling passenger.

We made it to Ingram in 8 minutes.

It usually took 10...

not kidding...

I came back from that little trip white as a ghost and as mad at him as the time he made me ride "Space Mountain" at Disney World.

No wonder Pete thought riding a Saturn rocket was a breeze compared to my dad driving a car with no door and roof across the south Texas landscape.

Speaking of that car---once he turned it into the Bat Mobile.

He came to pick me and Noel up from high school dressed as Batman (with my step mother dressed as Batgirl) in the "Batmobile".

Noel hid...

I ran to the car and my friends wanted a ride.

Only my dad could drive across town dressed as a comic book character and not be embarrassed.

I think it made the small town paper...and some of my friends probably still remember it.

As for the Batman costume it was a gift for his 40th birthday and my cousin Tio had a Robin costume to go along with it. I have photos...they are great...

My dad was an enigma of sorts---he was such a rough and tumble cowboy who rode horses and shot guns but he's also the man who chose my prom dress and cried so much when he saw me at Neimans in my wedding gown that I had to go and fetch him from the adjoining salon.

He collected western art yet loved Lalique crystal.

He loved scotch and red wine and good cold Mexican beer.

He loved a very rare steak and always had his beloved chilipetins on the table to go with it.

He loved to sing but usually only in Spanish (El Rey was a favorite)

He loved cars so much he once owned and ran a car dealership

He collected guns, cars, western art and children---there were 9 of us!

I had a complicated relationship with him.

When he said one thing I often had to prove him wrong

Like my wedding day when he said "are you sure" my answer was to grab my gown and his arm and said "the trumpet is playing let's go" even though he was right and I should have run out the church doors.

A particular conversation changed what I studied in college...

If truth be told I really just wanted to study to be a teacher.

I love teaching and I love kids.

If I had my way I would have been an art/art history teacher.

But a conversation we had when I was 13 changed that course for me.

After my father married my stepmother my mom would not allow us to travel to Houston every other weekend for visitation so my father leased some ranch property near Kingsville. We stayed in the guest house because the main house on the ranch was under dispute from the heirs to the property. They were fighting about it so they leased the property to my dad until things could be settled.

The ranch itself was in a bit of a mess and my dad was helping them by culling wildlife and grazing cattle there.

He took me out for a drive and we discussed why the ranch had not been properly managed which led us to a discussion of what would happen if he had a ranch of his own (we did have property in Montana) and he died.

Who would run the ranch?

And he informed me he planned to groom my brother to be his successor.

THAT DID IT.

My brother?

I looked at him and said "why not me?"

and I knew the answer....

because I was a girl.

And I was supposed to grow up, get married, have babies, cook perfect meals and serve cocktails and be a lady...

So I went to Texas A&M and studied Agriculture and confounded all my professors and showed up to Animal Science class dressed in a mini skirt and heels...and once rearranged a set of steers all while wearing stilletos and tight jeans and a typical 80's top with my hair in a perfect version of big 80's hair.

A few of my classmates called me "Hurricane Anice".

I'll take it....

My dad never expected me to run his ranch but he was beyond proud the day I got my degree and despite his University of Texas loving soul he resigned himself to the fact that I was an Aggie and loved it.

And I still ended up getting married and having babies and cooking perfect meals and serving cocktails and I'm a lady...and I never ran the ranch...

My dad loved women.

He really really loved women.

And when he saw a beautiful woman he would say "now that's a chickipoo" (he called beautiful women "chickipoo")

Last night I went to go see "Book Club" with Twirler Girl.

We loved it (very cute movie if you are a woman over a certain age).

Candace Bergen is in it.

My father took my sisters and me to Paris (see my blog "La Femme Parallel" for those adventures) and we were lucky enough to get to fly on the Concorde.

The Concorde had a private lounge and we were waiting to board our flight while relaxing in the lounge.

In walked the most glamorous woman I have or will ever see.

She was a statuesque blonde wearing a full length mink coat and heels and sunglasses and she was on the arm of an older gentleman. Back in that day you could go to the gate or the lounge even if you weren't flying on the flight. The man was clearly going on the flight but she was just there to see him off. She had eyes only for him.

My dad took one look at her and said "Now THAT is a chickipoo" and I could only stare.

I said "she looks like a movie star" and Daddy said "she is....She is Candace Bergen".

I had no clue who she was but I knew she was beautiful...

My poor stepmother was 5 months pregnant and had swollen ankles and watched my dad's eyes pop out of his head looking at the movie star.

But Daddy being Daddy he walked over to her...kissed her and told her SHE was the most beautiful woman in the room.

That was Daddy...

An appreciator of beautiful women but he knew how to take care of the women he loved.

I don't have any personal items belonging to him.

My stepmother never let me have anything but I have memories that no one can take from me.

And this is my fondest one...

it was the night before he died.

My daughter was 2 months old

Daddy was in the hospital and had had an angiogram and was scheduled for bypass surgery the next day (the surgery he would ultimately die from).

Daddy was so excited to have a granddaughter and he bought my daughter several over-the-top baby gowns and dresses that basically made her look like a giant meringue confection.

I dressed her up in one of the confection dresses and took her up to see him.

He opened his arms to receive her and held her for the hour or so we were there.

He was the happiest I had ever seen him and he was delighted to be holding and kissing his grandchild.

When it was time to go and I was taking him from his arms he said:

"She's the best thing you have ever done"

and at that moment any and all disappointment I had ever had from him vanished.

Because I truly succeeded in his eyes by producing this beautiful perfect child.

I kissed him and we told each other we loved each other.

The next day he had surgery and never woke up.

My last memories of him are of him in a coma but I truly prefer to remember that moment he handed her over to me.

I did something perfectly in his eyes.

I had strived all my life to do it.

And I finally did.

My dad was complicated, charming, funny, difficult, imperfect and easy to love.

And he will always be the first man I ever loved and even though we had a complicated relationship I feel blessed to be his daughter.

I have more tales to tell but there is a steak on my counter that needs cooking in his honor and some red wine I need to pour.

So to all who knew and loved my Daddy I hope you had a little remembrance of him as you read this...

and now I will go make a rare steak and think of him...

Happy Father's Day Daddy....I love you...

Inspiration Song: "Dance with my Father" by Luther Vandross. Because I wish I could dance with my father once again:

If I could steal one final glance
One final step
One final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never ever end
Cause I'd love love love to
Dance with my father again

Bye Darlings....back to cancer blogging next time but for now I just wanted to give you all a glimpse of the wonderful man I called my Daddy...

Here It Goes Again

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Wed, 23 May 2018 03:46:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

So it's been a few weeks since I blogged...sort of had a lot happen so pull up a chair, pour a cup of coffee (or wine, or water, or whatever), get comfy and settle in to hear the nonsense...

hmmmmm....

where to start?

in the past week I have had chemo, a hospital stay and my ex got married...so yeah your Magical Unicorn has had a lot of sheeeeet on her plate.

Let's start with chemo....

chemo...glorious chemo...

So let me tell you...Mondays in the MH Cancer Center are basically a circus.

Because Monday...

Because Cancer...

Because Monday...

Ever hear the old saying "Not My Circus. Not My Monkeys"????

Well that's how I felt the first time up there...

but guess what...

it's my damn circus and all the damn monkeys are mine.

And the monkeys are having a rave.

And they are serving trash can punch (chemo).

So there...that's what Monday is like in the MHTMCCC (Memorial Hermann The Medical Center Cancer Center).

But hey I like my circus and the tent has a glorious view of downtown and the lion tamers (the nurses) are the best.

So the ONE request I made..the ONE DIVA MOVE I have done was the following:

PLEASE DO NOT PUT ME IN A BED FOR MY CHEMO. I WANT A CHAIR.

Because unless you get one of the 2 "suites" as I call it with the big window all to yourself and a real hospital bed the other two beds are the hard awful gurneys and and they are only bearable for an hour and there is no window and I get to have the trash can punch for about 5-6 hours.

NO BED

Well when SweetMaria calls me up she says I am going to...

a bed...

oh no...

but lo and behold...

I got the Super Suite...I got the hospital bed with the big window...so my back was not in pain and I got to look outside and see our beautiful city the whole time.

My daughter and Aunt Jane came with me.

We made a party of it and brought unicorn horn headbands and played "Don't Stop Me Now" when the nurse gave me my dose of the newest brand of poison they have decided will kill El Diablo.

I cried...

not gonna lie...

looking at that bag of poison made me break down and cry because here the hell we go again.

Once the tears stopped (thanks to sweet hugs from my daughter) I handled the rest of the chemo like a boss (on a wicked steroid...that's the Everclear in the trash can punch: Decadron).

Chemo done we headed home, cooked dinner and I recovered.

The next day shall be known as the Day of Trying Not to Eat ALL the Carbs...

You know you are under the influence of a bad nasty steroid (ie the Everclear in the Trash Can Punch) when you:

Door Dash from JCI (translation: use a food delivery service to bring you food from a fast food place...in this case it was James Coney Island)

you order fries AND onion rings

you order a patty melt (and not a hot dog at a place known for hot dogs)

you forget to ask beloved daughter if she wants anything

you forcefully remove the fries (after eating 3) and onion rings (after eating 3) and half of the sandwich from yourself so you can't hurt yourself.

Yes...you Door Dash fast food and you don't look back...

(plan for next time: have a friend in place to bring me a healthy lunch the next day so I am not tempted to DD...or make my dear daughter fetch me something I should not eat.)

I survived the rest of the day and no more Door Dashers had to come to me and I didn't hurt myself with fast food.

And then Wednesday happened...

Let's start with the fact that I was launched out of bed by a call from the Ex.

The Ex got married this weekend.

more on that later...

but TCBITW (The Cutest Boy in the World) needed to be in an Uber at that moment and TCBITW was not answering his phone and his Padre was mighty worried. They had a plane to catch.

To Mexico.

More on that later...

So me being the NICEST EX WIFE IN THE WHOLE WORLD WHO PUTS HER KIDS AHEAD OF HERSELF got out of bed and stopped the Uber from leaving and got TCBITW out the door and headed back to bed where sleep eluded me even though daylight was barely dawning...

I had plans with KuteKris for lunch...now lemme tell you about KuteKris:

1)she is STUNNING (as in girl crush stunning)
2) she has the prettiest eyes I have ever seen on a human
3)her heart is bigger than her body
4)she is a badass babe cancer survivor (breast cancer....)

so we had plans and all of a sudden the "yucks" hit me...

KuteKris TOTALLY got it and I went to bed...

and then Aunt Jane and my former camp counselor (and Jane's friend) Terrific Tracy came by and I choked down some food and went to bed....

color Wednesday as :ugly...

Thursday: more of the same

Friday: More of the same...except I was having monster carb cravings again so once again the gods of Door Dash were summoned and dear daughter and I had IHOP.

Yes, we DD'd IHOP...

and I won't feel bad about it a bit.

IHOP blueberry pancakes can fix anything.

KuteKris fetched me ginger ale, my very favorite cookies (iced sugar cookies from Memorial Bakery are my drug of choice), and a beautiful rose plant.

I thought I was done.

Then Saturday happened.

Saturday I had plans with some of my #rideordie beauties to celebrate the upcoming birth of DearDom's little one Penelope (cutest name EVER). We had plans for pedis and lunch.

I made it to the pedi.

Lunch was when things got dicey.

1/2 an avocado toast and I called it a day.

And drove to school.

Now you are sitting there thinking "why the hell did she do that?" but it was auditions and I promised the kids I would show up.

So I showed up, saw that SashaFierce was there (y'all watch out...I'm 99% sure she's hitting Hamilton sometime in the next year...just a feeling I have but I'm betting on my girl.) and we headed up to the sound booth so I could nap.

I visited with her, napped, and heard glorious voices coming from below.

One voice I had not heard before but lordy I know talent when I hear it.

So I went downstairs, listened with pride to my kids as they sang their hearts out and then told GOTT I felt awful and needed to leave. He totally got it. I'm pretty sure I looked like hell.

Came home, got in bed, dear daughter climbed in with me and made me take my temperature and we watched it climb...

99.7
100.4
101.4

time to call Dr. Rockstar

And Dr. Rockstar quickly informed me I was gonna have a vacay in the hospital.but no

Really?

I had so many other plans for vacay...like KuteKaren1's lake house at some point....or maybe a quick trip to Austin....but no I get to go to Memorial Hermann...

Camiel and I packed my bag because there was no way I was gonna spend days in the hospital in the same underwear, in an ugly gown, with no skincare, and not have my pillow.

Fun tip: always pack your pillow

Fun tip: you will be more comfy in your own nightgown or pajamas

So I called up KuteKaren2 and she and her magic chariot got us to MHTMC and I got a fun visit to the ER (just the waiting room). It was a hoppin good time in there...

Fun fact: Saturdays are not a great day to go to a level one trauma ER...I kept hearing LifeFlight but thankfully did not see anyone...

Because Dr. Rockstar is a rock star she called ahead and they were semi-ready for me so after about half an hour they stuck a beautiful hospital bracelet on me and handed me my walking papers...

literally...

they told me to walk up to my room...

with a 102 degree fever

I asked for a patient escort...

Fun fact: there should be more than one person to wield a wheelchair to get a patient from the ER to a room. We were told I could walk up there or wait. With my fever (and generally feeling crappy).

yes, I want to walk the length of 6 football fields when I feel like hell.

no really....it's a huuuuuuuuuge hospital...

so we inquired about getting a patient escort to take me up.

ONE HOUR

NO THANK YOU

seriously--one hour...

I walked.

I had to stop several times but by damn I walked.

and collapsed on the bed.

I got into my gown, put on the adorable (kidding) yellow socks and got myself under the covers and yay I had a fever of 102.4

good times people...

good times...

I was having lower gut issues that were worsening by the minute.

I had been suffering for a few days but it had abated a bit...but came back with a vengeance.'

Fun fact: I do not like admitting that here but it is part of the reason I was in the hospital.

So first they have to make sure I don't have C-diff.

I'm gonna spare you the details but consult Dr. Google if you like.

If you are really feeling crazy Google one of the ways they fix it (hint: it's a poop transplant).

NO
THANK
YOU

I did not consult Dr. Google until they cleared me that I DID NOT have C-diff. (I learned about the "cure" from cute Dr. Resident 2). Apparently it is horrible to try to cure, especially if you are a cancer patient.

All done with Dr. Google?

grossed out?

yes I was too...

MOVING ON...

So Cute Dr. Resident1 comes in and tells me about the possibility of C-diff and informs me that Dr. Rockstar says I am her favorite patient.

Because I am

Because I am a magical unicorn.

now I have proof that I am the favorite for BOTH of my oncologist.

Because I am a magical unicorn.

She says they are gonna try to figure out what is wrong so they will run test.

So they ran test

and never figured out what was wrong but I got a sheeetload of antibiotics and thankfully since I was on the oncology floor they could use my port so yay no iv...

They put me on some antibiotic called vancomycin.

Fun Fact: if they infuse it in you too fast you can get "Red Man Syndrome"

Fun Fact: I got Red Man Syndrome.

I noticed a tingling in my scalp and then the itching started.

I called my nurse.

Nurse Felix walks in, takes one look at my face, races to the pump and turns off the meds and runs out of the rooms saying something about Benadryl.

I look at my face.

NOT
PRETTY

Red whelpy blotches everywhere.

It's common so it has a name.

I text photos of myself to Angel Amy and Twirler Girl...because you have to have sympathy when yo look like hell...

Nurse Felix comes in and hits me in the port with the Benadryl and boy howdy when it hits it hits like morphine...woah...

Fun Fact: Benadryl can MESS YOU UP

That on top of my sleeping meds and I was out like a light until they came in 4 hours later to poke me again and then back to sleep.

In the morning adorable Dr Resident 1 came in and checked me and we had a laugh about what happened and she confirmed I was now HER favorite patient.

Doctors love me...

just saying...

So then Dr. Rockstar comes in and I inform her that I was sorry I messed up her weekend but I had given her all of November, December, January, February and most of March not to deal with me and I was ready for her to focus all her love and attention on me.

She's such a badass...she has 5 year old twins...

and me...

I get to be her third child.

She tells me I don't have C-diff and we have no clue why I am sick and lets hope the fever ends and that the gut issues resolve.

She cursed me....

gut issues hit relentlessly (but damn I did not lose any weight because a carby BRAT diet was what I was told to eat)

Fun Fact: I get along with carbs just not the carbs that make up a BRAT diet.

I got another fever at 4:30 in the afternoon when KuteKaren2 was visiting.

Damn

Cute Dr. Resident 2 comes in and we chat...she tells me about the poop transplant. We bond. She tells me she is going home to eat lunch (it is 8:30 at night)

Fun Tip: be nice to the residents...they need to learn...and they are TIRED....

Now while ALL of this is transpiring my son is down in Mexico with his father.

Who got married on Sunday.

Congratulations to him!

(REAL TALK: I am very very happy for him and his new bride. Honestly. 100%. I got rid of him. I haven't been in love with him for at least 10 or more years. I have never ever every considered going back to him and I have never ever ever regretted divorcing him. I am happy he has a new life with someone who is nice and is good to my children.)

BUT KARMA F'ING OWES ME ONE BECAUSE HOW THE HELL DID HE GET TO GO TO MEXICO AND GET MARRIED AND HAVE A HAPPY FANCY TIME AND I WAS F'ING ALONE IN THE F'ING HOSPITAL WITH F'ING CANCER?

KARMA OWES ME BIG TIME

I am soooooooo tired of being alone.

I just want a date.

I do not need to get married.

I just want a nice man to tell me I look/smell nice and that dinner was good and that he appreciates me and holds my hand.

that's all...

(but if I do get married I am totally getting my body into incredible shape so I can wear a copy of Meghan Markle's Stella McCartney gown)

So my ex got married

and I was in the hospital suffering

and guess what...we both came out ok

because he is happy now

and I was incredibly well cared for on this little step in my journey

and things were as they should be...because he needs a new life and my life does not include him and my journey is through this hell called cancer so that things can be shared...learned...experienced...

and I fully believe that somewhere on this journey the man of my dreams will be part of it...he will have a part in this situation.

I have a dear old friend (and by old I don't mean she is old but rather she is one I have known for a very long time).

She was lucky enough to find love again and married the sweet man of her dreams a couple of years ago. They are so happy.

And now he has cancer.

And he will totally beat it.

Because he is going to.

I know it.

And God gave him to my friend because God knows that SHE is the right woman to handle what is happening to him.

She will help him through it.

She will be his helpmeet.

And soon they can resume a happy hospital-free life together.

(Shoutout to my girl B and my man T...when we get this sheeeeet under control how about meeting in the Big K for some dinner at King's Inn? The drum is on me...you get the shrimp...I'll bring the champs...can I haz my own tartar sauce?)

It's been so hard for them but they will make it...and their love story gives me hope that somewhere on my road there is the man God intends to love me...he's there...somewhere on this path...maybe he's someone I have crossed paths with and maybe he's someone I have yet to meet....but he's on the path...I know it.

I promised my children that we would always be a family.

We might not be a married family but we are a family.

And I totally welcome my ex's new wife and her son as part of our family.

They are my family now.

Forever.

Because family isn't just about rings, and weddings, and births and who's married to who.

Family is about who you love and doing life together.

It's about who you do the hard stuff with.

It's about who is there when the good stuff happens and the bad.

My kids have two parents that love them and now a step mother that cares very much for them (I can't say if she loves them but I bet she does as she is a loving woman).

They are lucky.

I am lucky.

If I was bitter and jealous my family could not work.

Yes, I sure wish I hadn't spent 2 nights in the hospital without a sweet love to hold me when I was scared and to laugh when my face turned red but that's not where I am in my journey.

Instead I had the help of very sweet nurses and awesome doctors and wonderful friends like KuteKaren2, Angel Amy and Heavenly Heather (who brought the sweetest card for me from #teamangel).

Angel Amy headed to Houston, plopped a casserole in my fridge before heading to the hospital with dear daughter in tow and came and fetched me for them to release me. We hit up Walgreens and Randalls and came home and gobbled up her delicious casserole and all slept like happy girls.

So there you go...the tale of my rollercoaster week....

a week of chemo...

tears....

happiness for my ex...

2 new family members...

my face turning red....

watching my kiddos sing briefly....

pedis with sweet friends...

delicious food prepared by a friend who loves me...

friends who took care of me and my dear daughter when I couldn't...

nausea...

great nurses and doctors...

fevers...

unicorn cookies....

and I almost had a poop transplant...

yeah...that last one was unexpected too...

Inspiration Song: Here It Goes Again by OK GO! One of the funnest (is that a word?) videos I have ever seen is to this song.... it's the one on the treadmills (watch it on YouTube)..literally one of the greatest videos ever (theirs are off the charts clever)...they once did the song live with the treadmills on an awards show and didn't miss a beat...because with me it's always "here it goes again"...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTAAsCNK7RA

Bye Darlings....my family is happy and intact and has 2 new members...I'm ok and didn't need a poop transplant but did get a really red face...and I get to do the chemo again after the holiday (and Dr. Sweetmeds assures me that I won't be nearly so sick this next time...but I'm not holding my breath because if there is a wrinkle to be had I will make it into a mountain)

I'm going to start dedicating my blogs: this one is for you Brenda M....and Tom....

#uterinecancer #cancerblog #teamunicorn #princesscancer #uterinepappilaryserouscarcinoma

Don't Stop Me Now

noreply@blogger.com (Anice) — Mon, 14 May 2018 00:45:00 +0000

Hello Darlings...

It's been a while...and so much has happened.

It's time for some real talk....serious talk...scary talk...

It's not gonna be pretty...

I need you to be strong for me...and maybe go take a shot of whiskey or pour a strong cup of coffee because what's about to go down here isn't easy for me to say and won't be easy for many of you to read.

There will be some bad language used here...

Ready?

Here goes...

Deep breath...

El Diablo is still with me.

yes

the worst has happened

my cancer is not truly in remission.

My damn Uterine Pappilary Serous Carcinoma is still hanging around.

F'ing El Diablo...

Damn...

damn
damn
damn
damn

I still have active cancer in me...

Thankfully my wonderful docs are calling this more of a progression of my disease rather than a recurrence.

Because a recurrence would be very very bad.

Like "make plans for end of life" bad.

But this is just El Diablo still hanging out trying to be a menace instead of me being classified as fully in NED (No Evidence of Disease) state and El Diablo returning.

Apparently when I had my scans in January and got so excited because Dr. Angel was so pleased we thought I was in the clear it was a bit premature.

El Diablo had other ideas.

El Diablo decided not to fully leave.

El Diablo decided to hide away in my pelvic lymph glands and hang out for a bit longer.

And lest you think Dr. Angel was wrong about anything he fully explained to me that it was a very very real possibility that my disease was still with me but at that time things looked very positive.

Because all it takes is for one cancer cell to remain and...

well...

bam

and

damn

One of the lymph glands was a bit enlarged in January but it was more of a "let's watch this" enlarged vs a "let's worry about this" enlarged.

So a few rogue cancer cells remained and now El Diablo is trying to stir up trouble for me, Dr. Rockstar, Dr. SweetMeds and Dr Angel.

Damn

But I have a few things on my side:

I'm generally healthy (other than a recently fused spine and cancer)
I have badass doctors
I have a will and determination that will not be matched.
I have so many reasons to live.
I have so many prayer warriors who will pray for me
I have so many friends who will care for me.

So now I really have to fight.

Basically I am looking at last year with the chemo and radiation as being BOOT CAMP.

AND NOW WE GO TO WAR

Yes..

full on war.

Because I really don't have time for this shit.

I have things to do.

Somewhere out there is a man I am supposed to love and he is supposed to love me.

I have kids that need a mama even though they are adults. They need to have me guide and love them and I need more time with them. They are my happiest of happies and I need more years with them.

I have shows to costume and students to cheer and love on.

I have so much left here to do and say.

I think I might have a book in me...

I have places to travel (Florence in 2020 is GONNA HAPPEN)

I have meals to make...

I have so many things to learn, experience and try...

I have things to teach my doctors about how to cure my shitty cancer and I get to make them even more badass because they are gonna be even more expert in my cancer and they are gonna be known as doctors who have successfully vanquished a really badass tough extra extra extra case of UPSC.

I found out that El Diablo was still stirring up trouble during my hospital stay over Easter.

In fact the grand news was delivered to me by a teary-eyed resident on Good Friday (Dr. Rockstar was out of town and Dr. Angel was at his other office).

When I went to the hospital it was because the pain was so horrific.

But what I hadn't shared with anyone but my closest friends and family was that at my checkup with Dr. Rockstar (in the midst of the storm that was my torn disk) my CA125 level went from 13 in January to 43.

Damn
Damn
Damn
Damn
Damn

so we knew something was up.

So my "routine" PET scan was moved up a few weeks.

But part of the reason I went into the hospital was also because I knew that unless I was admitted and given some pretty good monitoring, pain meds and mild sedation that there was no way I could get into the PET imaging machine.

So the first test I was given once my pain was starting to be managed was the PET.

I don't remember much (thank you sedation) but I do know I hurt and cried and prayed.

And the next morning it wasn't showing cancer in my hip so we had a little party in Jones 326 (my room) but then the resident came in that afternoon when TwilerGirl and I were happily thinking I was in the clear.

And she told me the news...

Damn...

F you El Diablo

All I wanted to do was cry my eyes out and scream...

thankfully TwilerGirl let me do it and we called AngelAmy and all had a good cry.

But then it was time to solve the short term problem of what the hell was causing me pain so I didn't have too much time to dwell on it.

I let my #teamunicorn know what was going on and my #teamAngel (my peeps at radiation) knew the bad stuff was back and HeavenlyHeather brought in Trixie the Magical Unicorn Balloon and I knew that my mascot was going to be a unicorn and like a unicorn I am a mystical creature. HeavenlyHeather gave me the perfect gift---she gave me a concept I can create my battle plan around.

I have often joked that I am a magical unicorn.

I've even told Dr. Angel that I am (so did KuteKaren1 when she yelled at him to fix me...thankfully he followed her order and is trying to fix me) and his team and I joke I am a unicorn.

Even Dr. Spine (my neurosurgeon) has been told I am a magical unicorn....I told him when he talked to Dr. Angel to get clearance on my surgery to tell Dr. Angel that he was gonna fix his magical unicorn.

I've told the nurses I am a magical unicorn....and everyone else at Memorial Hermann that will listen to me...

I believe in unicorns...they are real...

and I believe in me....I can do this...

so #TeamUnicorn was born and I am now ready to take this fight to the next level.

When Dr. Rockstar and Dr. Angel came to see me in the hospital after Easter Sunday they both acknowledged this won't be easy but we can do it.

Dr. Rockstar said she, and Dr. SweetMeds and Dr. Angel were gonna work on it and figure out how to vanquish El Diablo. She said Dr. Angel and I were "peas and carrots" so she would not make any moves without his approval.

(He's the carrots----they are square so they are sturdy..they stay in place and you can easily get them and they are bright and they are full of good things. I am the peas....they roll around on the plate and you can't get them easily and they fall off your fork and it's harder to eat the peas...so yeah, we are peas and carrots...I'm gonna make t-shirts...)

Dr Angel was amused by my unicorn balloon and the unicorns in the room and I reminded him that I was his magical unicorn and his ONE JOB was to fix me. (Ok he can fix the other humans too but because I am so extra and so me he needs to make me the #1 priority in his life right behind eating, sleeping and breathing...

I told Dr. Rockstart that I'm her magical unicorn and I am gonna make her the most famous gynecological badass oncology surgeon in the world because I know she is going to spectacularly fix me. I told her she needs to get me to Florence.

And to my son's graduation in 2 years...because by damn who the hell does not want to sit in Kyle Field with 90 degree temperatures in May? (the engineering school has graduation in Kyle Field in May).

I told her that I am gonna come through this so amazingly that she will be amazed.

So once I was released from the hospital and surgery was scheduled my doctors got busy figuring out what to do about El Diablo and Dr. Spine got busy fixing my shredded disk.

(BTW Dr. Spine is pretty amazing....hit me up if you have spine trouble...he and his team are the bomb....Mischer Neuroscience Center at Memorial Hermann is top notch and only has the most badass of the badasses as part of their fancy collection of doctors...Dr. Angel is one too)

I had surgery April 20 and according to Dr. Spine I managed to spectacularly shred my disk and tear the little band of whatever that holds it in place (he was impressed by that). Basically my spine was acting like a mortar and pestle and was very unstable so he put in some rods and screws and used some witchcraft and fairy dust and fixed my spine. Thankfully the rest of my spine is good, strong and stable. He said my disk shreds were on the nerve and that is why I was in so much pain. He was pretty impressed that I wasn't in worse shape and then I reminded him I was a magical unicorn.

We still don't know how I did it but honestly I believe it happened as a way for us to find out El Diablo had just been hiding in a closet and was out and about playing in my body again.

So I gained a month which is important since just 2 months before I looked pretty amazingly free of the damn cancer.

As for spine surgery---listen to me with all your might:

DO NOT EVER DO WHATEVER IT IS THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU NEED TO HAVE SPINAL SURGERY

I wish I could tell you what it is that can make that happen but we still don't know what I did to shred my disk up so it's all a mystery. So take care of your spine...listen to your body.

I have never ever hurt so much in my life. I thought the nerve pain was bad but waking up post surgery was the worst pain I have ever experienced.

I cried so hard it made my nurse get teary-eyed....

And I finally relented to have morphine as long as it was not on a PCA pump.

So that, and hydrocodone, got me through the pain.

I had all the big pain guns going...and yes I am fully free of them and have not needed anything more than a few Tylenol in the last week so there is no chance I'm gonna turn into an opioid addict on top of everything else.

Once I was stabilized in the PACU they moved me to my room.

Woah...

If you are a Mischer Neuroscience patient you get the 4 star treatment (maybe 5 star as far as hospitals go). You get the fancy room...and they have their own fancy OR's....

fancy

we fancy here....

fancy cabinets in the room, fancy bathroom set up for a spinal surgery patient...

and...

fancy nurses...

I begged him to let me go to the 3rd floor because my nurses are so incredible there...

I shouldn't have worried...

my nurses for fancy hotel hospital room were AMAZING and INCREDIBLE and LOVELY...

Oh my sweet JoyfulJoy was truly a gift from God...she took such awesome care of me that first night! And then I had Rani and then I had the magic that is RahRahRah....and sweet Keasha....I swear they were not only kind but truly beautiful...and Nancy and Grace were incredible too....

(NOTE: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A BAD NURSE AT MEM HERMANN....THEY ARE ALL LOVELY FABULOUS AMAZING GORGEOUS STUPENDOUS KIND GIVING LOVING HUMANS)

Those ladies were so wonderful...I don't know how I got so lucky.

So I spent 4.5 days in the hospital and was in pain but so grateful that the horrific nerve pain was gone.

So with the help of my #TeamUnicorn I got through these last 3 weeks and I had lots of yummy meals, sweet friends going to the grocery store for me, friends coming to visit and more precious unicorn gifts and flowers than I deserve (but I love them all).

I saw my docs this week...Dr. Rockstar and Dr SweetMeds explained the witchcraft they plan to do to me and Dr. Angel gave me hugs and reassurance and a vote of confidence in the planned protocol.

I've been warned that this horrific cancer might be like a chronic disease with me.

I might have too keep fighting non stop for a long long time.

So Monday I am going to start chemo again.

yup...more chemo

This time it's a new combo of drugs and thankfully it won't make me lose my hair.

I have to have it every other week....and currently I am scheduled through October.

it will likely go on longer than that so PLEASE DON'T ASK ME WHEN MY TREATMENTS WILL BE DONE. If you ask me then I will tell you to read this blog again as an answer...in fact, let's just not ask questions, shall we? The worst thing you can do to a cancer patient is to ask them a lot of questions about their treatment...let them share if they want...

This is a marathon people...a war...not just a battle...

I'm ready...

#TeamUnicorn is ready on the battlefield too...

We got this...

and my daughter is home so she and Aunt Jane are going to take very good care of me....and TwilerGirl is on chemo duty once again so she is ready to help me with hydration (this chemo requires I drink a lot of water) and thankfully does not have to wrestle cold caps onto my head.

All my peeps in the cancer center are ready for me to come back and spread some more glitter around (but hopefully no spilled chemo drugs)

I'm gonna handle this like the magical unicorn I am...

because I got things to do people....

many many things to do....

and being at the mercy of my crappy cancer is not one of the things I want to do right now...

I have waaaaaaay better uses of my time than fighting cancer and I am pretty sure Dr. Rockstar, Dr. SweetMeds and Dr. Angel are gonna kick the shit out of El Diablo this time...

So I am sorry that I have kept this from most of you....it's not something I wanted to share until I was ready...and until I had a plan...until my children, family, students and those closest to me knew...and until I knew if this was an endgame or not...(pssst: it's not....)

I feel great other than the after effects of my spinal surgery and I am ready to take what they are going to throw at me.

So every other week I am gonna have poison put in my veins and then the rest of the damn time I am gonna live my life and use the time that God has given me.

You see He's not ready for me yet...He's leaving me here to do good works in His name and to be a badass magical unicorn.

He's leaving me here to show the power of faith and prayer...

He's leaving me here to demonstrate love...and hopefully fall in love...

He's leaving me here to mother my children....and to love my students....

He's leaving me here because GOTT needs a work wife (I am pretty sure he has been miserable without me)

He's leaving me here because I'm gonna teach my doctors how to beat this horrible disease...

He's leaving me here to drive Dr. Angel crazy....Dr. Rockstar is not thrown by my antics...she has 5 year old twins (nothing can throw a mom of twins---they are unflappable)...he on the other hand is completely baffled by the storm of energy that is me and I told him he needs me around to keep his life exciting...he doesn't have 5 year old twins so he needs me to keep things hoppin....

He's leaving me here so Dr. Rockstar can say "yes, you can cure Stage 4 UPSC" to other docs...

He's leaving me here so Dr. SweetMeds can know what protocols beat the crap out of UPSC

He's leaving me here so Dr. Angel can teach other docs how to make UPSC get the hell out of a patient...

He's leaving me here so that other Stage 4 cancer patients can have hope....

He's leaving me here so I can be an advocate for cold capping (I still plan to spread the word on it)

He's leaving me here so I can help my friend Grace spread the word about HPV prevention (via vaccine) to prevent future cancer....

He's leaving me here so I can meet Glennon Doyle and Oprah because they are my gurus...

He's leaving me here so I can love my kitties....

He's leaving me here so I can show others how to fight...and how to accept help.

Please don't tell me I am inspiring...or a source of strength...or anything like that....I am not doing anything that any of the rest of you wouldn't do if you were in my shoes.

I have proven I am strong and badass...so El Diablo is just gonna have to stand down.

I won't be stopped...

I have too much to do....

So El Diablo won't stop me now...

there is more ahead...

and starting on Monday I will get my port accessed and have the poison put in ...and it will do it's job and El Diablo will be no mas....

so sorry for all the secrecy but it's been a long recovery from the surgery and getting over the shock that El Diablo was still wanting to battle on.

I'll get through this...

one last thing...my daughter suggested that each chemo day have a theme so please suggest themes for me to make things a little less horrible every other Monday...

of course tomorrow is "UNICORNS"

and the next one is "PINK"

and the next one is "GLITTER"

I have at least 9 more after that so bring on the themes...

So tomorrow send me ALL THE PHOTOS AND MEMES on social media...put on your unicorn gear and send me love...

Thank you all for the love and support...with it I can keep going...

and El Diablo:

F
U

GET THE HELL OUT OF ME

(sorry for the bad language...)

Inspiration Song: "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen...because before I got hurt I didn't think anything could stop me...and now El Diablo is trying to and I and #teamunicorn and #teamangel and #teamrockstar (which includes Dr. SweetMeds) are not gonna let him...so tomorrow when they start the new poison in my veins I am firing up this song on my phone and I'm gonna let Freddy Mercury scare the hell out of El Diablo...

Lyrics:

Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out - yeah
And floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now don't stop me
'Cause I'm having a good time having a good time

I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go go go
There's no stopping me

I'm burnin' through the sky yeah
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

Don't stop me now I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball
Don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time just give me a call
Don't stop me now ('Cause I'm having a good time)
Don't stop me now (Yes I'm havin' a good time)
I don't want to stop at all

Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite I'm out of control
I am a sex machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh oh oh oh oh explode

I'm burnin' through the sky yeah
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic woman of you

Don't stop me don't stop me
Don't stop me hey hey hey
Don't stop me don't stop me
Ooh ooh ooh, I like it
Don't stop me don't stop me
Have a good time good time
Don't stop me don't stop me ah
Oh yeah
Alright

Oh, I'm burnin' through the sky yeah
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

Don't stop me now I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball
Don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time (wooh)
Just give me a call (alright)
Don't stop me now ('cause I'm having a good time - yeah yeah)
Don't stop me now (yes I'm havin' a good time)
I don't want to stop at all
La da da da daah
Da da da haa
Ha da da ha ha haaa
Ha da daa ha da da aaa
Ooh ooh ooh

Bye Darlings: El Diablo might be still with me but I am here to stay...I have an Angel and a Rockstar and I am a magical unicorn...there is no stopping me....