I Think I Can...cun

Last year we had a trip planned to Key West. It was going to be awesome. Then, a week before we were supposed to leave, I was diagnosed. As much as I hated to, we cancelled the trip. But this year we planned a Summer of George to make up for the lost fun.

We started last week in Cancun. My folks watched the kids for which we are grateful.

It was an educational voyage in which we learned many things:

Mexican candy sucks. I don't mean to start any international wars, but these red squishy things

and these blobs of dough

ain't got nothing on a good Snickers Bar or Reese's Cup.

We also learned that little Mexican towns love tourists. Especially the kind that bring American dollars. To them, all Americans are rich and I guess it's true that we are. We have sewer systems that can handle toilet paper, water we can drink straight from the tap, and almost every household has wifi. So I don't mind spending a few of my American dollars at shops like this. 

The Mayans were crazy violent people. Pictured here is an ancient Quidditch court where the team who got the most balls through the hoop won. And then were beheaded as a reward.  

Our tour guide told us all these souvenir stands at Chichen Itza were run by the mafia. Personally I think he was in league with the guys in the shop (pictured above) where we stopped on the way. I'm not sure if he was full of crap or not, but it was interesting for sure. 

Chichen Itza was huge and awesome. It is the only wonder of the world I have seen so far and it definitely deserves the title.

This is a cenote. Something I had no idea existed until recently. It's a sinkhole filled with water in the middle of the jungle. I jumped off a 15' platform into the cenote, but there is no record of it on account of Chris not being ready and me not wanting to wait for him in case I lost my nerve. It was cool.

Mexican chocolate is the best. I don't know why they don't use more in their candy. I fell in love with this chocolate while there. I can't get it in the States, so I took a stash back with me in my backpack.

Chris looks pretty boss swimming in the ocean. It looks like he is leaving civilization for good and striking out to find new horizons. 

I, on the other hand look like a very pale girl getting a very bad sunburn. And that is exactly what is happening. In Hawaii, I burned so bad that I invested in some rash guards for this trip. Now I need a rash guard for my legs. Sunscreen just doesn't cut it.

Zip lining is fun. It put a big smile on my face. But it didn't quit give me the rush I was looking for. I wanted it to be a little faster and a little more adrenaline inducing. I think the park we chose has a lot of mass appeal so they couldn't be too extreme. 

The amphibious vehicles were cool and kind of made me want a ATV. But not enough to spend that much money on a toy. 

It was hard to say goodbye to Cancun. It was amazing and surreal and lovely. But we have to get back to our jobs...

in order to fund Summer of George Part II: Disneyworld and Universal Studios. I can hardly wait. 

Perfect 10

So Emily is 10 now. It is amazing that she was born an entire decade ago. We are glad to have her in our family. 

Last week she became the first in our family to ever compete in a school sponsored sporting event. Go Emily!

Later that week, she brought TARDIS cookies to school. None of the other 4th graders knew or cared about Doctor Who, but Emily marches to the beat of her own drum. I like that. 

She continued to march to the beat of her own drum when she and Chris went to comic con. She said that the folks there were her type of people. Where else can you wear your Hermione costume and pose with a Stan Lee impersonator in front of dudes modeling wearable robot sculptures? She loved it and she expressed a desire to follow the comic con circuit around. For now I think she needs to focus on school.

At dinner, Emily decided she was grown up enough to order off the adult menu. I agree. 

Last night I stayed up late to make overnight cinnamon rolls for a birthday surprise. I parked them in the fridge and got up an hour before I thought anyone else would so I could take them out and get the yeast woken up. But it was cold. And Chris said he would get up later and put them in the oven, so I left a sticky note: "350° for 25-30 minutes". And then I went back to bed. Emily woke up first and spotted the rolls. She thought the note was for her, so she baked her own birthday breakfast. She is a pretty responsible young lady. 

Emily got a load of presents. Jane made her some toilet paper roll binoculars. You might want to be careful with those, Emily. I strongly suspect Jane fished those rolls out of the bathroom trash can. Pink eye is curable. But love lasts forever. 

Emily got a big girl bike. With gears! That's how you know you've arrived. 

She also got a label maker. It has already proved helpful. 

10 is a lot of candles. Soon we will have to start with the number shaped candles. 

Happy Birthday Emily! We love you and we are happy to have you in our family!

Marchy

March has always suffered from bipolar disorder around here. Unfortunately, this year, March has been depressed a lot. Manic party girl March only came out for a few days. Luckily, we were able to take advantage of that with a short hike.

The North facing slopes were convinced it was still winter, which led to a great deal of slipping, falling, and crying. 

The South facing slopes were under the impression that it was midsummer, causing the kids to shed their heavy layers and attempt to turn me into their pack mule. Lucky for me, I wasn't medically cleared to schlep a backpack. 

You wore it in, you can haul it out. 

We had a great time and it was so nice to get out in the fresh air. It's been a long and terrible winter and we needed a little fun. 

The next weekend there was more snow on the ground. Our friends hosted a night time egg hunt, which I think was only enhanced by the snow. 

Easter... in March. 

The depression continued when we got 14 inches of snow and 50 mph wind the next week. 

That led to my first snow day in the 4 years since I have returned to work and the first snow day the governor has granted in 7 years.

We could have spent the day cleaning, but we didn't. 

The girls wanted to make cupcakes and so that is what they did.  

They did them all by themselves. (With the exception of the frosting. I am not a chill enough mom to give my kids access to powdered sugar) They are supposed to be bunnies. I think they turned out very nicely. 

The lure of 14 inches of fresh snow drew them outside for hours...

and hours. I don't know how they can withstand the cold so long. It's probably because they don't know any better. 

Then we enjoyed a premature Easter. It was lovely nonetheless. 

For real, we have a candy problem. I can't resist Easter candy. Maybe next year I will get the kids crafts. Who am I kidding? I can't stand crafts. 

Besides, the excitement that candy elicits cannot be matched. 

Here is our Fancy Easter Dress Picture. 

Hey, I've got an idea. Lets load the kids up with sugar and then ask them to pose for a serious picture. We should caption it with something like "I'm so grateful for Easter and also that my family is better looking than yours". 

Why does this never work for us?

The kids insisted on yet another egg hunt. There was still a lot of snow in the yard so Chris and I didn't so much "hide" the eggs as "dump" the eggs. 

The kids complained that the eggs were too easy to find.

I complained that the it didn't keep the kids out of the kitchen for long enough while I was cooking dinner. 

Nonetheless, it was a lovely Easter and I was grateful to have the energy to enjoy it. 

Today March decided to go out with a bang and hit us with a little more snow. It was a wimpy storm that resulted in damp pavement and that's about it. Nevertheless school was cancelled. 

When school is cancelled, there are two camps: the working moms who can't go to work and probably burned their leave taking care of sick kids all winter, and the moms who are grateful to have a day when they don't have to change out of their yoga pants all day and want to spend more time with their kids. You can tell them apart on Facebook. The working moms post: "The snow isn't even sticking to the pavement! The school district is crazy!". The yoga pants moms post: "I am so grateful that my child doesn't have to risk their life in this 34° weather. The district made the right call. Stay safe and warm."

I am a part of the camp who has been burning my vacation leave lately so I can do things like get poison pumped into my body and have surgeries. That also means that Chris has been piling up vacation time since I can't go anywhere. Therefore, I am in the camp of ample husbandly vacation time. He was happy to use some of his leave to stay home with the kids today. And I drove (above) the speed limit on my way to work today and never once felt that my life was in danger. I was safe. And thanks to my heated car seat, I was warm. I also made it to work in record time because there were no school busses on the road. 

And now, I am declaring this the last 3''+ snow storm of the season. April better not pull this crap. Or else I'm going to move to one of those equatorial third world countries where the sun shines year round. As far as I'm concerned, the lack of modern medical treatments and plumbing will be a small price to pay.  

Enough

I thought I'd blog to give everyone an update on our not-so-thrilling lives. Also to document our latest chapter.

I finally healed up enough from chemo to have my "final" reconstructive surgery. (Final is in quotes because I'm not ruling out the possibility of needing revisions. This is not typical cosmetic surgery where the outcome is overwhelmingly positive.)

After an unexpected night in the hospital, I spent the last week in the company of my surgical drains, Zofran, and Downton Abbey. Despite the Zofran, I still had a rough week and couldn't attend Emily's parent night because the world was spinning. I've reached the conclusion that I do not react well to anesthesia. Unfortunately surgeons like to operate while the patient is unconscious.

I'm told Emily did well. Her project was on pioneers. She has been very into history this year and has loved learning about Wyoming. I am proud of her academic interest.

Yesterday we performed one of the rites of spring: the visit to see the chicks at Murdoch's. After a nice long walk, we made our annual pilgrimage. I think there are children who raise these animals for egg laying and consumption. These children have parents that are better than we are. Our children will never fully understand farm to table logic or the great circle of life. In other news, Emily is getting a hankering to fire up her aquarium again so she can kill another fish. I think we've talked her into a cactus instead. 

I took a picture today so that people can see that I'm still kicking. I hate the way I look. I've forgotten what my eyebrows are supposed to look like. I've been doing quite a bit of plucking, but it just feels like there are so many more of them than there were before. And while I hate the almost-long-enough-for-a-pixie look, I am ridiculously grateful to have hair. I hated wearing a head cover. And I hated wearing eye makeup. I'm glad that's done.

So I guess it's on to survival. I hope this is a long chapter. I am excited to put some distance between me and cancer. Some people get comfort and encouragement by identifying with the cancer. It works for them. They find peace in the pink ribbons. I don't. I don't need to be reminded of what I've been through.

I have finally been admitted into a circle of survivors that includes my amazing friends and family: Virginia, one of my biggest supporters, who left cancer behind and became a wife and mother. Carol, who survived breast cancer but succumbed to another cancer. I believe it was her who guided my hand to find my cancer that morning. Grandma, who survived for decades and was never shy about creeping me out with her breast prosthesis. Phyllis, who does everything with humor and style, including cancer. Pam, who reminds me that while it's okay to be afraid, it's not okay to let the fear run your life. Leanna, who gave me hope that I would find normal again and who gave me encouragement when my hair was just starting to sprout. Sandy, who has kept my mom calm while I underwent treatment. Kathy, whose spirit survives and who cheers for me from the other side. And all the other women who are part of the 1 in 8. While I love being part of this circle, I want to put the cancer itself behind me. I don't want to let it define me or my future. I miss my life and I'm going to fight like crazy to get back to it. For now, it is an uphill battle. I am afraid most of the time. Maybe in another year, I'll only be afraid half the time. Maybe in a decade, it will be a twinge of fear here and there. 

In the meantime, I am thankful for my husband and kids, for my friends and family, for my hair and eyebrows. It's enough for now. 

Chemo: The End

So I finished chemo on New Year's Eve. At the time I didn't know I had finished. I thought I had one left. But one of the side effects of the drug I was on is neuropathy. Last Sunday it was a struggle to get myself dressed, let alone do my girls' hair because my fingers were so numb.

My doctor said it was too risky for me to have my last treatment. She said I could loose feeling in my fingers permanently. Right now they are just numb at the tips and I have a good chance of getting full feeling back. She decided it was time to cut my losses and skip the last treatment.

The nurses gathered together and wished me well. They gave me a bottle of sparkling cider and told me to go celebrate. It was bittersweet to tell them goodbye. They've been a big part of my life.

We celebrated at Starbucks with the cookie and mint tea that Chris usually delivers to me during my treatment. 

I had very mixed feelings ending chemo. On the one hand, I was glad to be done. On the other hand, I hated not finishing. Being done with chemo feels weird. I have been fighting for 7 months. The fight is over now. I am afraid to end the fight. I've never been one to sit tight and hope that nothing bad happens. That's precisely what I have to do now. There is a lot of fear associated with ending treatment.

There is also a lot of relief. Today was the first Saturday in months I was able to participate in life. I am still exhausted, but I'm not crashed like I normally am. It will be a long time before I am back to normal, whatever that is, but at least I'm on the up side of things now.

When I started Taxol, which comprised my last 12 treatments (or I guess it was only 11 with the skipped one), I started a countdown on the wall of my cubicle. I took a selfie every week as I took down a number... at least after the first one. Anyway, here's my countdown. I got a little sicker every week. Now I get to do that process in reverse.

It's hard to look at those pictures. And not just because I suck at taking selfies. I don't want to remember how sick I was, and still am. But I need to remember because I need to appreciate health when it returns. 

I've been getting a lot of questions about what comes next. I can't have hormonal therapies (tamoxofin or herceptin) because my cancer was triple negative. I won't have scans unless my doctor feels the need to investigate something. I will get blood tests every few months to monitor tumor markers and liver and kidney health. I also will have a surgery in a couple months to finalize my reconstruction. 

I am told that my immune system will be back in a couple of weeks. I am told that my anemia will be gone in a couple of months. I am told that my hair will be long enough in 6 months that I won't even look like a cancer patient anymore. I am told the fear gets less as time goes on, but it never goes away. 

My oncologist says my job is to life my life now. It won't be easy, but I am going to try.