Charting a Course and How You Can Help Me.

Everyone is different. Everyone reacts to cancer treatment differently even if they get the same drugs. I do not mean to make light of cancer. It's a damned serious disease and the reaction of most folks (I think) when they get the diagnosis is that it scares the shit out of them. And then they have to come to terms with it and deal with what to do and how to do it. I'm looking for humor because humor has always gotten me through.

I'm still looking pretty good AND I feel great right now. No one would suspect I have cancer. I still tire easily on some days - still getting over the surgery and getting the drugs out of my system and probably putting some energy into trying to keep cancer at bay. And I'm not a spring chicken.

Last week I met with the doctors who are planning my treatment. I'll begin chemo on Friday June 12. Hoping I'll run true to their prediction that I won't start to feel "bad" until the third day so I will be able to work at the refuge on the weekend. Treatments are spaced over nine weeks so that is a treatment every three weeks. About a month after that I'll start a radiation treatment - one a week for three weeks. Then another nine weeks of chemo - once every three weeks. It seems like such a long time for someone committed to instant gratification. I think that works out to a little over six months - I'm supposed to lose my hair so that translates to saving around $75 in haircut costs. There is a silver lining . . . . . and maybe I'll finally learn patience (doubtful).

The CA-125 test (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CA-125) they did last week showed 10.4 and that falls well within the normal range (0-35). A higher number would indicate a more likely presence of cancer. So I guess those little serous cells (do an internet search if you want to know more about those nasty little suckers) are still floating around looking for a place to set up a tumor shop. Chemo will do a seek and destroy on them. Unfortunately, chemo is not that selective and will kill some other cells too.

I had a discussion about depression with one doctor. I get depressed. Not difficult to imagine when you realize how passionately I care about the environment. Wildlife squashed on the road. Forests destroyed. Wetlands dredged or filled. Pollution. Wildlife indiscriminately killed. And sloppy grammar. So, yeah - that shit depresses the crap out of me. The doctor advised making a list of positive thoughts to use as my mantra when I have a negative thought. Here is my first one, "Rick Scott will die one day."

Okay, I don't really wish him dead but I wish he would change his attitude. I don't think that's going to happen. Would we be in better or worse shape if he won a senate seat? I shudder to think. Okay, that's a negative thought. Ohhmmmmmm Rick Scott will die one day.

And this brings me to the "bad" part. I've never really asked what that means. Really tired? I'm a good sleeper. Achy? Hydration is recommended to help with that - sadly beer is not on the list. Nauseous? Have to deal with it. I'll be sensitive to sunlight - must invest in a protective shirt or two. Sunscreen is recommended but that stuff makes my skin crawl so probably not. I know I'm weird that way. I don't like the way fake fabrics, sunscreen, and insect repellent make my skin feel. My immune system will be impaired so it you are sick stay away from me XXXXX. Luckily, TMH Cancer Center is open to some alternative, natural ways to alleviate the side effects.

So for someone who has avoided taking chemicals and turns down the X-rays from the dentist, my body is about to be flooded with toxic chemicals and radiation. Can you laugh at the irony?

HAHA - didn't see this coming!
So the radiation doctor and I had a little chat on Friday. My treatment will be done vaginally. (Oh, ICK!) Honestly, I've been poked and prodded so much lately that I'll soon lose my Re-Certified Virgin status. No pride or modesty left. I could probably walk through the capitol naked without a second thought.

So here's the really icky part. Radiation will make my vagina shrink. That is not good because then they can't insert the instrument and also they can't look to see how things are going and if a tumor is growing. "We'll give you a vaginal dilator and teach you how to use it." We look each other in the eye for a moment. "How about I just have sex?" I ask. "Sure, you can do that." So, fellas - Volunteers anyone??? - OMG! so totally KIDDING about that! I have not been able to embarrass this doctor yet but I'm not giving up.

How You Can Help Me Now
So many of you have offered to help - food, rides to chemo (doc says I should be able to take myself to and fro for radiation), clean my house, feed the pets, be my walking buddy, and more. Believe me you are all on my list - I just don't know at this point how I'll feel and what I'll need.

However, if you want to help me with a project before I begin treatment - I could use you. If you don't know, I sold my home in Tallahassee and moved to the country near Woodville. My old house has a small front porch and a large back porch. Both have floors are in serious need of pressure washing and paint. Actually the vinyl siding needs pressure washing too. I have a pressure washer but it's electric and might not be strong enough for the job.

I have paint. I've wanted to take care of this stuff for months, but it's a little daunting for one person. So, I need help with moving stuff in order to do the pressure washing and the painting - wouldn't you know that rain is finally predicted for the coming week!?!

Well, if you are up for painting, moving furniture, pressure washing or anything like that let me know. Oh, I also need an old couch and loveseat to go away. Panhandle Pizza and Ace Hardware are just a few miles away . . . . I know I can still do stuff right now and I'm happy to feed and hydrate you too.

Let me know if and when you can help and we'll have a party or three. I don't expect to get it all done in one day so there are opportunities for all.

I took the pictures below at the TMH Cancer Center on Friday afternoon - a salt bush and a wax myrtle growing in the parking lot retaining wall. You have to admire the tenacity of a seed to grow even in adverse conditions.

You are all my super support group! Gail

So here is what I want to tell you. I have cancer. It's a disease and not necessarily a death sentence. Frankly, I'd rather die in my sleep and the doctors tell me that's still an option. In the end, cancer might not be what kills me. But no one gets out alive and that is the irony. As soon as the sperm hits the egg we begin to live and we begin to die. We never know how long we have and life always blindsides us with good and bad stuff. Ya never know.

Understand that I am still me - irreverent, angry at injustice on nearly ever level, profane, pissed that many people DON'T do the right thing (or in my cases the left thing), and, I think, I still have the ability to laugh at myself most of the time. So treat me normal. Don't be afraid to talk to me. Believe me I will talk to you and probably tell you more than you want to know. It's okay to tell me to shut up.

So my uterus went bad and it came out, with associated parts, on April 20, 2015. On April 22 I received the news that there was a malignant tumor inside and that I would be referred to a radiation oncologist. Well, I kinda thought that cancer was the root of my problems so I was not surprised.

My first reaction was to do nothing and just let cancer take me away - like the old Calgon Bath Oil Beads commercial. But my friends won't let me do that. I knew it was a mistake to tell them.

The good news was that the tumor was inside the uterus and had not escaped. Well, okay. I guess this guy is going to tell me, "Oh yeah, it was fully contained so come back in 6 months and well take a another look."

Not. I've been becalmed on a sea of ambiguity for a few weeks, but now I'm seeing the doctors and I believe the wind is picking up and we're charting a course for a bountiful shore and not a desert island. I know there will be storms along the way.

Instead, he said that even though everything came out clean, the tumor contained "serous" cells. That was serious. He thought I'd need chemo and radiation. Well, that sucks I thought. I needed to speak to the medical oncologist who would talk to me about chemo therapy. I've been given lots of printouts on uterine cancer and what to expect and treatment and side affects and I have all my path reports and there's a lot of medical terms and descriptions that I don't understand.

Now I've spoken with her and my cancer education continues. Here's what she recommends. Nine weeks of chemo with Taxol and Carboplatin. That sounds like a lot but it is really an infusion of each drug every three weeks.

The good and the bad about my cancer:
I'm at Stage 1A - this is good because it means the cancer has not progressed far at this time
I'm a Grade 3 - this is bad because of those serous cells meaning that the cancer is aggressive and now that we know its there we have to hit is hard.

Yes, I will feel like crap sometimes. I will probably be crabbier than usual if you can believe that. Yes, I will lose my hair but it will come back and some folks say it will be curly. That would be weird.

Well, after that first nine weeks is over, then I'll get some radiation (I'll find that out today). Then another session of chemo. And then? Well, we'll see.

I am so lucky to have a huge support group from my friends and family. So many offers of help. I might need rides to chemo. Not sure if I need that for radiation. Food? My appetite is still not right from all the drugs I had to take for the surgery. Nothing tastes right and this is likely to continue and probably get worse. House cleaning? I hate housework but seriously, this would be a real chore for anyone to take on - pounds of sand, leaf litter, and pet hair enter this house every day! I'll need to move so walking buddies might be helpful. Cards and letters? Not really necessary - just knowing you all out there on my side is enough.

I'll write about what's going on here so you can keep up - or not.

Oh, about the bald thing. I really don't have a nicely shaped head so I'm not sure if I want to flaunt it all the time. Many people make head coverings but while they hide your head they all scream, "I'm bald from chemo!" I found some cool biker 'do-rags' that have images of fists flipping a bird. I think I might go for one or two of those. People are likely to be so distracted by the design they won't notice I have no hair. :-)

Don't be underinsured and pay attention to what your body tells you. And please treat me normal.

Gail - May 29, 2015