Not only has the cancer spread to my sternum, but my lymph nodes in my chest are beginning to show signs of enlargement as well. My WBC is dropping with every new blood draw and that is not a good thing. My RDW is at a 20 and my Pro-time is 30. Normal rates for PT are between 8-13 and for RDW, I believe the normal rates are somewhere between 9-14. I am severely Anemic, and my Platelet count is at 500.Oh, and did I mentioned my right lung is collapsed? I am overwhelmed to say the least. Stage IV with not even one single treatment yet...and that is all because of the major screw ups that happened after surgery. My body just has not been strong enough to tolerate any treatments yet.
I hope that will change on Monday. Monday we travel to UT Southwestern which is known for it's impeccable research program and clinical trials. I deserve answers and I am fighting to win. I refuse to allow this cancer to take anything else away from me, especially my life.
UT Southwestern means that I have more options. I know that I will be dealing with cancer for the rest of my life, so the more tools I have to work with, the better.
Today was a rather uneventful day, other than the fact that my smallest two children stole $64.00 from my oldest to order things from the PlayStation Network. That was exciting. I thought my oldest would be harder on them then he was. He explained to them how hard it was to make that money. He gave them his chores to do for one week and told them they would have to pay him back every time they received money. We had a police officer come and talk to them about the ramifications of stealing. He told them that credit card theft is a felony and then explained what a felony is. I think they got the picture and I really don't think they will ever steal again. They used the money to buy MineCraft DLC's (whatever that is).
KB did his homework all day, the kids played outside, my oldest kissed me (I still find that super awesome), and I laid in bed trying to learn how to crotchet. Yea...I kind of suck at it. I want to make myself a pretty white Afghan for when I am in chemo, but my work so far, doesn't even look like anything that resembles, well, anything. We ate Taco Bell for dinner and then chilled and watched TV for the rest of the evening. I really should be grading papers that I have put off for about 6 weeks now...maybe I will do that tomorrow. I am such a procrastinator sometimes.
I have learned that my oxygen really has become my best friend. I cannot breathe at all without it on. And although that sucks, it has saved my life. I don't think we appreciate breathing until we can no longer breathe without assistance. I know I didn't. I never took breathing into consideration before I became oxygen dependent. But, I did get a cool handicapped placard because of it, so ha!, now I get to park in all the good spots!
We are talking about going to Lubbock for Thanksgiving and spending it with my brother there and then they will come here for Christmas or vice versa. I love how we are keeping the tradition alive. In January, we are going with them to Ruidoso for a ski trip...Katie and I will just build snowmen or something while they ski. In June, they are coming with us to San Diego. Cancer has really brought us closer together, and I love every second of it. I need my family now more than ever. Hopefully, my whole family can figure out a way to get together and have a family reunion soon. I truly have an amazing family.
Last weekend I went out to eat with my mom for lunch and saw several people staring at me because I had my oxygen tank. I can only imagine how it looks to see someone so young (I don't look a day over 21, true story) on oxygen. It doesn't bother me that they stare. I am sure they are wondering the same thing I would wonder, "What's her story?".
Meeting new people is a bit awkward for me. I never know when or if I should drop the "I have cancer" bomb on them. I still have my hair because I have not been able to start chemo yet. Overall, besides the oxygen, there is no tell-tale sign that I have anything really wrong with me.
Yet, lung cancer has become a big part of my identity. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about it. Some days are worse than others...here lately the tears have flowed quite freely. I have started to become active in online lung cancer support groups, and I have made some new friendships because of that. It has profoundly affected who I am and how I think about life. So, like it or not, it is a part of me.
I am not ashamed of having cancer, and I am more than happy to talk about it with people who ask or just want to listen. But the initial coming out is wrought with uncertainty. Will I get the pity face? Will I get the list of things I should/should not eat, drink, breathe, etc.? Will I get the awful silence that follows the exchange, "What stage is it?" "Stage IV...."
Kevin and I adamantly believe in being truthful with the kids. No matter how difficult or awkward the question, we always strive to answer in a straight-forward manner and an age appropriate way. This includes all topics from Santa Claus to where babies come from. We told the kids that Jesus is actually Santa Claus. And if you think about the story of Christ's birth, you would see where we are coming from in that explanation.
So how do you tackle telling kids their mom has cancer?
We told them that I am sick with a big sickness that requires some really big medicine. And sometimes that medicine will make mommy feel really tired and crummy...and on those days, we will have to do school from mommy's room, or we will have to have make-up days. We told them that it is a sickness that mommy will most likely have for the rest of her life because it is really hard to get rid of. We told them that the doctor's will do everything in their power to fix it and make it better.
This is essentially the truth...
.....................................
I'm tired of being reminded of the fleeting nature of our time on Earth.
I'm tired of being aware that this could end so quickly.
I'm tired of knowing how important it is to stop and smell the roses, that the frost is coming soon.
I'm tired of happy moments carrying the pang of realization that this can be gone in the blink of an eye.
I'm tired of answering my kids when they ask me if I am going to die...I'm tired of that even having to be a thought in their minds.
I'm tired of hearing my mom cry.
I'm tired of not being able to do the things I once loved to do.
I'm tired of cancer.
Understanding the importance of living for today is a terribly heavy weight to carry.
"when Time and Life shook hands and said goodbye"
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I acknowledge that I am going to die but aren't we all? Advanced lung cancer is not classified as a terminal illness without reason. Although that fact was not initially easy to accept, I am fortunate that I have and continue to have time to work it out. Thank goodness I'm dying slowly.
I've had the luxury of being able to move through all the stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and, finally, acceptance.
I've also come to understand more about the nature of fear, and that it is inextricably tied to a lack of experience and things unknown (my mom has always instilled in my brain that fear is just a lack of the unknown). Cancer, or the big 'C', is right up there near the top tier of all things fearful. When first diagnosed, I was terrified (I still am). I am also sad, pissed occasionally, and even a little bored.
The same goes for dying. Death has become my familiar. Not a friend or someone I would invite into my home; but an oddly intimate somewhat constant presence.
As uncomfortable as it may make those close to me, I believe it is important to honor my need "to go there"; to actually embrace (however reluctantly) my own mortality.
It is in no way a morbid obsession; I could hardly be more engaged in the act of living. My willingness to look clearly at what lies ahead has really allowed me to understand the terrain so I can better prepare. Hopefully not just myself, but those I am close to.
After all, death is really just part of life. You can't have one without the other.
The fact that I have lung cancer is out of my control (you don't understand how much I hate that), but how I chose to respond to my situation was very much of my choosing. I didn't want to be afraid, and I have started to learn as much as I can about my cancer to calm my fears a little. I reasoned that if I knew what to possibly expect, not only could I make better choices (in regard to treatment and how I wished to spend my precious time), but I could minimize a huge component of fear; the unknown.
I am not ashamed to say that I take an antidepressant and an anxiety medication because I need to be as strong as I can to fight this battle. I have to keep my mental state strong as well.
Next on my list was tidying up and fixing those things in my life that felt messy and broken. My relationships to family and friends were all approached with a new perspective. I initiated the long (and ongoing) process of ordering my physical environment; my surroundings but also the way in which I approached tasks. I began to implement the order that I had always craved but found so elusive as my life became more complicated (all those grown-up responsibilities).
And, slowly, I reached back into and began to honor my creative core: writing.
"Time is shortening. But every day that I challenge this cancer and survive is a victory for me." -Ingrid Bergman
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