Bushy eyelashes, fuzzy head, post-chemo wig humor, and other five star updates.

I promised that I would keep updating on the progress of my hair. Three weeks after my last chemotherapy treatment (always counting from the last day) I had a few pieces of stubble. You couldn't see them but I could feel those little buggars pushing through my scalp. Here is a close up of my big ole egg. Can you see it?!

That's right folks. I have official hair growing. It's super bright blonde and it's fuzzy. I have fuzz! I'd say it's about 1/2 inch long. So we have a ways to go.

Tomorrow will mark nine weeks since my last chemotherapy treatment. It's starting to feel like another lifetime that I went through this. Remember all that repressing I like to do? My mind is working hard to try to shove all these cancer memories down into a little box and put them away in storage. But it's not so easy to do when you're bald. You're reminded every morning when you decide what color hair you'd like to have that day. You're reminded when you want to take your son to the pool and you have the agonizing back and forth in the car to go wigless (and be stared at) or risk getting your $300 wig wet. You're reminded at the end of the day when the first thing you do is rip that wig right off your head.

I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this experience but I sure can't wait to not have to be reminded of it every time I stare in the mirror.

That is one big reason why my regrowth is such an obsession for me right now. I cannot wait to feel completely like myself again. I miss my hair every day, every second, every moment. It's like a constant ache. I feel like I'm dealing with it worse now than I did when I first lost it. I was too wrapped up in battling cancer, suffering from chemo, and being a horribly appropriate combination of brave and terrified. Now I feel healthy, I'm living my dream, everything is happy, successful, and wonderful. But I'm friggen bald. That big ole bald head reminds me that life wasn't always sunshine.

It'd be nice to have just natural hair. No awkward pauses when someone compliments my awesome hair or asks me what salon did my dye job. I want to have my own hair. No more dealing with the pain of hat headache for hours at a stretch. Plus not having a melting wig on your head in 100 degree Colorado sun would be great too. Sure would make dating less daunting when I decide to entertain the idea. And it would avoid the possibilities of...

Insert PG-13 make out session. Smooch, smooch. Passionate 90's TV show hair grab. "Oh my gawd! Your hair just fell off!! I ripped your hair off!" Screaming for the hills.

Err, right?

Yeah, that sounds awkward. Is the fact you're wearing a wig first date table talk or do you just surprise them when they least expect it?

Now that could just be a fun game.

"Well hey there, Bob. What a nice day today, I feel like a nice breeze on my follicles." Rip off wig. Wait for reaction.

I don't like to date anyways. I don't like dealing with man needs. Pizza doesn't ask me to cuddle. Even though I'd probably like to cuddle with pizza.

Did I get off topic?

My eyelashes are BACK. I have official eyelashes. I use the term official because now they're long enough to put mascara on! And they're way thicker than they were before chemotherapy. So I guess I can forgive the chemo for being such a bastard and making them fall out after my last treatment. My eyebrows are back now and are already in need of a nice reshaping wax. Which I am terrified to do just yet. What if I piss them off and they all fall out? Better be nice to them for now.

It's too bad as a culture that we put so much emphasis on standardized female beauty. It's a pity that in order to feel beautiful, I feel that I need to put on a wig. Despite all the feminism coursing through my veins like Buffy (the vampire slayer) juice I still can't escape my own insecurities. Insecurities that have been force fed to me through years of television, advertisement, and popular culture brainwashing. But as I've discussed many, many times on here- hair is so central to our identity as human beings. Even more so for women. Are we wrong to put on wigs in order to feel like a normal and healthy woman? Does that make any of us less feminist for doing so? I don't think so.

I wish I could feel just as good without them. Because they sure are uncomfortable.

But day by day we're getting closer. The nurses told me the standard rate of hair growth is 1/2 inch per month. That sucks. But hey, maybe my hair will grow faster and surprise me.

I'll update on the hair progress as we go!

I have a big event coming up- at least as far as cancer survivor news goes. I signed up for a cancer mountain retreat/hike! It's all free and paid for by a wonderful group called Live by Living. They're going to take us up into the mountains where we will do yoga, meditation, and all sorts of healing techniques. This is going to be real outdoors kids. No electricity, just solar power. I'll take lots of pictures so I can share on the blog. I'm really excited. My sister Angela is going with me so it will be really fun. I think this will be really good for me. I need to connect with spirituality again. I need to refresh myself from my bitterness and just relax with nature. I need to have faith in my body again. It will be a great experience. I hope. As long as I don't fall off a mountain.

So keep an eye out for my next blog post! I will talk about my cancer survivor hike and I am sure that will be an enlightening post full of entertaining stories about my first time roughing it in the wilderness.

Post-Chemo Update

Well, we have some exciting news kids.

I can drink COFFEE again!!! I can taste it! 

See what I did there? (Thanks Puta for the Grumppuccino)

We are now almost six weeks from the last day of my last chemotherapy treatment. So far we have seen improvement in many different areas. My taste buds are back in full force! Coffee, taco dip, it all tastes good again. I might have ate everything I could get my hands on once that happened. 

My eyelashes are growing back and they're coming in thicker! They're about half the length of a normal eyelash at this point. 

No such luck on the eyebrows. I might have a handful of little hairs left and they fall out whenever I touch them. Maybe they'll start picking up the pace. Thankfully, with bangs it doesn't matter much anyways.

But the real exciting news is the past week the hair on my head has taken off full speed! My head is now covered with a very blonde peach fuzz. It's super, super tiny but it's there and growing fast. Not fast enough to give me some real friggen hair but I know it will take time. I just can't wait to give up wigs. So over wearing wigs. They have become ten times more uncomfortable now that my hair is growing back too. It's like wearing an itchy, hairy hat all day. 

The pain in my legs and feet has drastically improved. They still hurt consistently in the evening if I've had a long day but nowhere near the pain I was feeling a few weeks ago. 

No more nausea, no more insomnia, and no more bone pain. Those three were some of the worst. I was very happy to throw out all my medication for these bad boys. 

The fatigue is the one sucker that is hanging on pretty good. I have a really hard time waking up early like i used to and returning to my old schedule of springing out of bed at 6am. I hope that goes away soon. 

Emotionally I feel pretty good. The more time that goes on the more I feel that I really can put this behind me. I know that the first checkup CT scan and meeting with my new oncologist in September for follow ups will be hard but I'm a tough cookie. You have to live your life. Live it, love it, enjoy it. It's a ticking clock, this beautiful thing we call existence. It can be snuffed out so quickly. Called into question so fast. I will never waste another minute. 

I won't know if I can have more kids for a long time yet. The docs say it takes a year for the female body to return to a regular cycle OR not to show that the menopause is here to stay. But honestly, that's okay. I feel at this point Adrian is all I need. I can focus more time, love, resources, and attention on him if he's an only child. I am at peace with whatever happens with my fertility. Take it, leave it. I am just grateful to have the one beautiful little boy I do have and know that I am alive and healthy to take care of him. 

These hot flashes friggen suck though. 

My port removal incision is healing up nice but it's leaving me with a giant battle scar. Sigh. But hey, I just won a battle didn't I? Every warriror needs their battle scar to prove it. 

I'll update on my "hair" once it's long enough to see without pressing my nose to a mirror. 

Speaking of living life, we start our new beginning in Colorado this week. I am beyond excited to go home, be closer to all of our family, and to start my new career and grad program. Our townhouse looks amazing- that giant kitchen is going to be wonderful. Adrian's elementary school seems fantastic and I've already signed up to be on the PTO. (Parent Teacher Organization.. no longer called PTA these days) Adrian is super excited to be near his cousins and he's begging me to do soccer or karate. I am so beyond grateful that despite the horrible circumstance of being diagnosed with cancer that I was still able to graduate, accept my graduate admission, and make this transition happen so I can give Adrian the best life imaginable. Finally, all those years of hard work in my undergrad paid off. 

Looks like everything is turning out just right. The calm after the storm. 

It's going to be hard leaving Manitowoc behind but I think it's helpful that beating cancer and the move ended up falling into place the way they did. There's so many memories here now that scream 'CANCER' at me. I drive past Aurora Medical Center on memorial drive and I get a shiver. Even though the cancer cliniic there was the best ever, it brings back so many memories. I will neverr forget them but it'll be nice to not have to be reminded on a daily basis either.

The one thing that really bums me out is leaving my brother and all my wonderful friends behind. So many people really went above and beyond for me during my diagnosis and treatment. It's a shame I can't bring you all with me. Being faced with a life threatening condition will really show you who the people are in your life that truly care about you. Cancer showed me how wonderful and lucky I am to have such amazing friends and family. It also showed me that having cancer doesn't necessarily protect you from people that are soulless and heartless. Disease can be funny that way. 

I will miss you alll, my Manitowoc loves. I will be back to visit and I will be sure to stay in touch. 

Keep checking back for more post-chemo hair regrowth updates!  And I have an intersting cancer survivor hike into the mountains coming up- let's start taking bets now on how many hours I can last without technology.

Port Removal Surgery!!

I'm going to be honest on this one: I was extremely nervous to have this done. I had way more time to think about this than I did for the beginning surgeries and biopsies so I think I built it up to be a bigger deal in my head. By the time I got into the hospital room I was shaking.

But really, it's just a simple procedure (so they say) so it can be done in the clinic with regular ole freezing shots.

Let me tell ya, I'd rather have the drugs in the outpatient surgery- those freezing shots hurt like hell. But maybe that's because I was getting them in the boob and neck area?! Yes, the boob. Glad no one told me that before hand!

They started off by bringing me into the room and then I was left alone in there for a few minutes before it all started. You know what that means right? Hospital selfies!

The room looked like a regular ole clinic room with a surgery table. No big deal.

The biggest downside to having those few minutes alone is you have way too much time to see this terrifying table of torture:

Yikes. I just snapped a picture of it and then didn't look too long. I was already nervous enough. My imagination was conjuring all these images of my veins coming out like spaghetti when they pulled the port out and feeling the incision and so on and so on. Oi vey. I said this in my earlier posts: there's no sense in pretending that you don't get scared when this stuff happens. That's not true. We can be fighters, we can be brave, we can be tough, we can take on the largest amounts of pain- but that doesn't mean we don't feel fear. The fear is half of what makes cancer patients fighters. We barrel on in the face of paralyzing fear because we know that in a battle the fear is half the fight.

I took one last picture of me and my port. Though you can't really see it. If you look closely you can- especially the little tube going up to my neck. Yuck- creeps me out. 

So after my selfie fun in the exam room- they came in and we got down to business. The nurse I had, Lorene, was absolutely amazing. As was the doctor, Dr. Morgan. So wonderful. They both had an awesome bedside manner and were very funny. The nurse grabbed my hand right before the first numbing shot and gripped it each time he gave me another one. I'm glad she did that because they were painful as all hell. Way worse than I thought they were going to be. Maybe it's because they're going into the boob area? Needles and boobs just really don't belong together. They both kept me talking during the whole procedure which I appreciated. Made it much easier to ignore the pain when you're talking. Major props to that medical technique. Altogether I got about 6-8 shots? I'm not even sure, I tried so hard to focus on the conversation instead of counting. They got easier as the numbing kicked in- I didn't even feel the last two.

All in all that part took barely ten minutes. Once it was numb they started. He told me he was doing the incision and I didn't feel a thing so that easy peasy. I could feel the tugging as he pulled the port out but it didn't hurt. Just felt very strange and off putting. When he pulled it completely out I could hear a disgustingly amazing squishing noise in my neck where it was threaded. It was like a Game of Thrones noise. I'd give it a rating of a 7 on a 1 to 10 grossness scale. Very cool and disgusting.

The entire procedure maybe took 30 minutes. It was super fast and not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. The shots were way worse than the actual procedure. I wouldn't be in a big hurry to have those ever again. But again, nothing that I couldn't bear. I've had way worse. (See: bone drills in your butt bones)

So here is the port in all its wonderful glory!

Yes, they let me keep it! Normally doctors don't let you keep things that come out of your body. (I'm looking at you, tonsil doctor) 

I'm not sure if I'm going to keep it forever- I might just toss it out. I just wanted a few pictures of it for the blog. See the little squishy parts? That's where the needles went in when they accessed it for chemo, fluids, blood work, antibiotics, blood transfusions- you name it. The white part is what was threaded into my vein up into my neck. Disgusting and cool, right?

So this is a happy day of celebration. Today the last and final step of my cancer journey is over. I am officially free. I am free from the leash (the port) that binded me to this horror. I might have mental wounds that will never heal and scars that will never fade but I am alive. I can take this experience and put it into perspective. I appreciate life more than I ever did. I appreciate the simplicity of feeling healthy more than I ever could have imagined. I relish the fact that I can eat sour food without unbearable pain (mouth sores) again. I am grateful that the cancer I did have was a curable and treatable one. I am so lucky that I am healed and on the road to recovery. 

And as a mother, this is even more incredible. The first words out of my mouth after my diagnosis were, "What will happen to Adrian?" Those were the scary moments before I knew any details besides it was cancer. Those dark moments of fear and despair. Now that my battle is over I can breathe easily again with the knowledge that I am healthy and fit. My son will not lose his mom. He will not have to see me sick again. He's seeing my health and active personality return in full force and I see the happiness in his eyes as he sees me run, play, and smile.

So today I fully feel the happiness of my remission. With the removal of that port it symbolized everything I have fought for, the battle I have won, and the conquering of the darkness that dared to taint my life.

Screw you cancer, I won.

A Shout Out!

This morning I had an appointment with my primary doctor.

Yanno, the woman that saved my life. She was the one that ordered the original x-ray that showed something funky. And the second x-ray to confirm that there really was something funky. And fought my insurance to approve the CAT scan that would ultimately show the tumor in my chest. (They didn't want to authorize it!!!)

That friggen mass of cancer about the size of a fist that managed to grow in just under six months was caught so quickly because of her fast actions and perceptive medical care.

That awesome woman saved my life. So a shout out to my kick ass nurse practitioner- Adriana Gnadt through Aurora healthcare. She is now at the Two Rivers clinic but if any of you ever need a primary physician- I would recommend her!

Thanks for saving my life Adriana. <3

It was nice to see her today, give her a hug, and thank her.

The results are in....

My pet scan results came back and I am cancer free!!!! I am 100% positively in remission!! 

 

It's funny how I never cried at the beginning but today I burst into tears at hearing the news.

This is my happy dance: 

Or more like some jumping. The picture didn't turn out as awesome as I thought it might. This one is a bit better:

Yahoooooooo!!!

I am so happy and grateful. I am alive. I am healthy. 

And to top it off? My oncologist is very optimistic that I won't be infertile after this - I might be able to have more kids! Which I don't know yet if I want more but it's nice to have the option. 

Speaking of kids- I have one happy little boy right now. He made me a "Happy Done with Chemo card"-

He said that this is me and him holding hands because I'm all better. And yes, this definitely cued more tears. I love him so much I could burst.

So many happy tears today. I have never appreciated life and health more. I have never been more grateful. I feel like I can finally breathe again. I have survived the worst trial life has ever given me. I made it. 

I am all scheduled to have my port removed on Thursday! Apparently it's easy peasy- some numbing shots, a small incision, and they pull it right out. Don't worry- I'll blog about it!

And then I don't need to do anything oncology related until my check up scans! Woohoo!!!

Thank you everyone for the love and support. It has meant the world to me. I had never felt how wonderful humanity can be until I battled cancer.

Pet Scan Number Two

Pet scan number two is over and complete! This pet scan was a lot different from the first one mainly because it was done locally at our regular hospital. But one similarity? I had Risa to be my 'before' prep person again. And she even brought me a puppy for the way there!

I think pet scans and puppies should just go hand in hand. Especially puppies that tiny!!

But back to this pet scan. It's a traveling pet scan! It's a medical circus folks!

Isn't that crazy? The entire process took place on there. The sides pop out like a camper and they drive from hospital to hospital. They injected me with their fancy contrast first and then made me chill out for an hour in this cozy armchair:

I think it was way better than the hospital room at Baycare. There I was closed up in a bed in a dark hospital room. This was just being reclined in the armchair. It was not as depressing. 

After that it was time to get scanned. My anxiety level didn't hit peak point until I was actually in the machine. The machine looks a bit like a spaceship with a grumpy cat riding it:

For those of you that haven't had Pet scans they go something like this: you lay down on the little bed, they cover you with blankets (because the rooms are always freezing,) and put this weird giant belt over you. It's the same material they make you wear for X-rays. Then once you're strapped in the bed it moves slowly inside the scanner starting at your feet and working it's way to your head. It gets a bit freaky at that middle point when it seems like your nose is gonna touch the scanner. Very claustrophobic! Once my head was in the middle I had to do some deep breathing.

It's hard not to go into that, "This isn't fair. This isn't how I should be spending my Saturday morning." Those thoughts are negative downward spirals and should be avoided at all costs. I am lucky that I am still alive to get angry about the lack of fairness of life. At least I get to be cancer free now. That's not something everyone gets to be and I'm grateful. 

So I made it, scanxiety and all. I won't have to have another scan for three months. So far the typical post care plan is scan and bloodwork every three months. So Monday we get the results and meet with the doctor to talk about taking this port out!!!

PET scan grumpy cat selfie! One more step down!

Recovery time!

Recovery has still been going smoothly since my last post. There's only a few major things I notice that aren't resolving themselves right away: I lost another eyelash (THE HORROR,) insomnia, dry skin, and puffy/bags under the eyes.

And sadly, we have a new side effect. Which I don't think is fair at all considering chemo is OVER. I'm starting to get all these horrible pains in my lower legs and feet. I've Googled (duh) and apparently that's pretty normal after chemo. It comes and goes. We went to see Thomas the Train at the GB train museum and towards the end of the day I was in so much pain from all the walking. I'm not big on taking pain killers- I never was during this whole treatment really so I'm trying to tough it out. I'll ask the nurses about it next time I go for blood work. Yes, we're still doing blood work. Monday should be my last day getting it! (At least until my three month checkup)

Saturday will be three weeks since chemo ended. Saturday is also my PET scan. I've talked before about scanxiety on here so I hope you're familiar with the term. Here's a helpful chart:

scans=anxiety=instant claustrophobia

Seems logical, right? I think cancer survivors get some PTSD from all this crap. And that's reasonable. Who could go through a scan without it reminding them of the initial diagnosis period? The PET scan takes two friggen hours which sucks. But at least it's one of the last steps to being done. I keep having nightmares about the whole thing so I really just can't wait until it's over.

And then we get to take my PORT out! WOOHOO! I've been told the procedure is way easier than it going in. I wonder if Dr. Dreamboat will get to do it. Hmmmm.

I'm going to be brave and share something I haven't shared too often.

I want to document the hair growth because I loveeee when I'm told my blog helps others with cancer so I want to keep the information train going. Let's see how long it takes!

Here's the starting point:

Baldy bald bald. There's a wee bit of stubble (can't see but feel) and we're at the three week mark. I'll post another picture once we have something noticeable. Let's see how long this takes! I've been told six weeks for it to start growing and mine is already growing so hopefully I'll have some fuzz by the six week mark.

On the opposite end of the spectrum I noticed when I pin back my blonde wig with bobby pins it looks like my hair did when I wore it up!

I look like me!!!! I can't even express how happy that made me. 

I'll update everyone on how my scan goes. I'd like to dig deeper into that scanxiety business. Now that I'm recovering my natural academic tendacies are whirling in my brain. I want to write a post about what parenting while having cancer is like too. 

Stay tuned- I'm not done writing yet!