20 posts tagged Cancer
It’s Friday, let’s keep it fun and come out fighting. Please enjoy as the hemoncology floor of Seattle Children’s Hospital performs Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger”
A friend of mine, Chelsea, just forwarded this message from her friend, Hun.
“I’m at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Strasbourg. I lit one of these candles for your friend with the Hoechemo blog. I hope it works!”
It sent shivers through my body that I awkwardly tried to focus on my mediastinal mass.
Again, I am humbled.
Thank you, Hun.
I promised myself when I started this blog that I would never apologize for not writing on it. That to apologize would be antithetical to what I am trying to do therapeutically by writing it in the first place.
Guilt comes anyway.
Instead of apologizing, I would like to thank you all for following my progress so diligently. For caring. For walking with me. For continuing to send letters, calls, gifts and texts even though I can only sometimes find the time to return the favor or even offer my thanks. I want to thank you for sharing stories of how this blog has found you. For encouraging me to keep writing. To keep writing already. To get better already. For continuing to help in whatever way you know to fill me with the belief that I’m bigger than this disease. More stubborn. More resilient.
For now, know that I am physically doing as well as I have in many months. SGN-35 is a chemo dream-o. But staying mentally up for this—as my treatment calendar gets longer and longer, and life plans get altered and re-altered—well, let’s just say I wax and wane with my enthusiasm for the long and winding road.
My oncologist has pushed back my next PET Scan until after my third treatment of SGN-35. My brentuxi(map) keeps getting redrawn. And while intellectually I know that doesn’t necessarily mean a longer path to wellness, I couldn’t help but feel a little beaten when I left the hospital. Maybe it caught me off guard.
And then time alone and time with Aura help me to refocus.
Now, it’s the weekend, and I’m going to go enjoy it. No apologies…
How was your day?
Woody: Oh, y’know, Pretty cool, I guess. I did go into remission. So that was neat. Oh…and I played catch with a major league pitcher b/c I’m on twitter. So there was that.
Dedicated to Aura Brickler
SGN-35 dose one. Magic Bullet. Infused. Mediastinal Mass Madness! Liquid Benedryl. Zzz. Aura designated driver. Very little nausea. More Zzz. Gone now. They say cold and flu like symptoms. I say no.
Yes!!!! If it works, if it works…
Life goes on.
Coordinating. Conferences. Car shopping. Concerns about long-term disability. Colliding.
Life doesn’t care.
Impossible to make plans for future.
And thankful. Buoyed. So many friends. So many thoughtful friends. So many cooks. Overwhelmed. Over-nourished. Never Over-cooked. I’m over-cooked.
Two weeks to dose two. Mediastinal Revival, Part Deux.
5 weeks to PET.
Anxious. Tired. Where is vacation? Vacation…
Short? Easy.
Questions?
Is the worst. That was yesterday. I called Northwestern six times. And I waited. I fiddled. Fussed. Then I gave up. Aura and I left the house for a walk. We talked of patience. Then, in the middle of a crowd, the call came in. Amused, I awkwardly ran/walked to an alley. I put my dangerous hoodie up to shield the wind, and answered the call. Surrounded by dumpsters, and followed closely by Aura, I received the news. SGN-35 has been approved. Fresh, like an experimint, SGN-35 is LIVE.
As I write this, I’m torn by the cutting edge. It wasn’t excitement I felt when she finally called. Maybe, relief. I have gotten good feedback on the drug. All but one of the top Hodgkin’s doctors she polled, said, “Do it. Drug’m.” Almost a consensus. So yes, I am relieved. But like a kid stuck in the back seat on vacation, the destination seems a long way off, and I’m pretty powerless to do anything about it. And so I respond “Ok.” rather than “Let’s Roll!”
I can feel the difference in the positivity that surrounds me. Friends and family are more apt to say, “I’m at a loss for words.” than “Dude, you’re gonna kick cancer’s ass!” Bible verses and offers to walk by my side are increasing in regularity. And so it goes. For a senseless situation, it all makes sense.
But I’m less pensive than I am business-like. I’m less depressed than I am determined. I’m practical. Hands on. That’s what I need right now. Physically, I feel better than I have in a long time. That helps too. I’m keeping muh-muh-muh-my poker face. I’ll celebrate when it’s gone. If even.
Thursday, at 2:45pm, I start SGN-35. Literature is coming on the side effects. I’ll receive two outpatient treatments, then PET restaging. At which point if it’s working but not finished, I’ll likely get more. If it’s working and finished, well…hell yes. If it’s not working…
by Sulieka Jaouad
an excerpt:
Young adults might just be oncology’s “tweens” — too old for the pediatric cancer floor but equally out of place in an adult oncology unit. I’m not suggesting that it’s worse to be young and sick, but rather that young adults with cancer are a less visible demographic, swept up in the mix of adult cancer statistics.
Read more at http://secretsofcancerhood.com/
