If you haven't voted yet, or haven't voted in a while, don't worry, you can still vote for Casting for Recovery in the Pepsi Refresh contest. Right now, CFR is ranked #4 in the health category for the $250,000. I'll write about my experience later, but last month, I attended their Ohio retreat and had a wonderful experience. please help CFR win some money to help the program expand.
19 October 2010
12 September 2010
Moving Right Along
On Tuesday, we went to see magic fingers for a 6-week post-surgical appointment. As per usual, I have been healing wonderfully, and the surgeon is pleased with his work. He told me I am free to do what I want. No more restrictions on swimming, bathing, exercise or clothing. Yippee!!!
07 September 2010
You simply can't do both
Breast Cancer Action, a San Francisco-based advocacy group that seeks to educate the public about potential causes of breast cancer, has a new campaign for Fall 2010. BCA seeks 6,220 signatures for a petition they will send to Eli Lilly, a corporation which makes both rBGH (a potential cancer causing hormone primarily used in dairy cows) AND breast cancer drugs. So far BCA has reached about half the signatures they need. The reason for 6,220 signatures is to equal one signature for each day that rBGH has been on the market.
Please sign the petition, and spread the word.
Please sign the petition, and spread the word.
24 August 2010
Private Quarters
For me, my cancer diagnosis has always been a private matter. I shared it with mainly friends and family. Due to my wedding happening two months after the diagnosis, I probably shared it with more people than I felt necessary, but I didn't want someone attending the wedding to learn about my situation at the wedding. If you were close enough to me to be there, you deserved to know.
At the time of my diagnosis and first surgery, I shared my situation with very coworkers. A few months later, when it came time to begin chemo, I felt that those who worked closely me deserved to learn about my medical status. And luckily, many of my coworkers respected my privacy and didn't gossip. Many colleagues didn't even realize what was happening until it was over, until I stopped wearing my wig. Being almost bald is kind of a giveaway. And I think there are many who still don't know.
My reason for being quiet was because I never wanted to be defined by a few rogue cells that decided to take root and grow within my body. Once you tell people that you have cancer, the disease takes over your life. People begin to look at you differently. Conversations are awkward. I didn't want my life to be only about the cancer.
Today, NPR produced a piece about people who feel differently than me. In fact, one person is quoted as thinking that a television character who is private about having cancer is not believable character. "Turning Cancer, Other Diseases, Into Causes" discusses changes in society's attitude over the past few decades regarding sharing diagnoses and promoting disease awareness.
As I write this blog entry, I wonder if you might find me hypocritical for claiming privacy since I write a blog. My blog began as a way to share what was happening in my life with a few close friends so I wouldn't have to call everyone every time something new happened. As my medical adventures have began to die down, I've wondered if keeping the blog going was necessary. My psychologist encourages me to write a journal as a form of therapy, and this blog is my cancer journal.
And I keep my blog public, just in case someone out there, maybe recently diagnosed with breast cancer, worrying that they may be alone, possibly overwhelmed by a scary sea of rah-rah pink.
At the time of my diagnosis and first surgery, I shared my situation with very coworkers. A few months later, when it came time to begin chemo, I felt that those who worked closely me deserved to learn about my medical status. And luckily, many of my coworkers respected my privacy and didn't gossip. Many colleagues didn't even realize what was happening until it was over, until I stopped wearing my wig. Being almost bald is kind of a giveaway. And I think there are many who still don't know.
My reason for being quiet was because I never wanted to be defined by a few rogue cells that decided to take root and grow within my body. Once you tell people that you have cancer, the disease takes over your life. People begin to look at you differently. Conversations are awkward. I didn't want my life to be only about the cancer.
Today, NPR produced a piece about people who feel differently than me. In fact, one person is quoted as thinking that a television character who is private about having cancer is not believable character. "Turning Cancer, Other Diseases, Into Causes" discusses changes in society's attitude over the past few decades regarding sharing diagnoses and promoting disease awareness.
As I write this blog entry, I wonder if you might find me hypocritical for claiming privacy since I write a blog. My blog began as a way to share what was happening in my life with a few close friends so I wouldn't have to call everyone every time something new happened. As my medical adventures have began to die down, I've wondered if keeping the blog going was necessary. My psychologist encourages me to write a journal as a form of therapy, and this blog is my cancer journal.
And I keep my blog public, just in case someone out there, maybe recently diagnosed with breast cancer, worrying that they may be alone, possibly overwhelmed by a scary sea of rah-rah pink.
22 August 2010
Please Vote!
Please vote for Casting for Recovery in the Pepsi-gives-away-money contest. The deadline for votes is August 31, and you may vote once a day. Thanks!
Click here (or on the widget below) to vote.
Thanks!
Click here (or on the widget below) to vote.
Thanks!
15 August 2010
High Hospital Fashion
If only my big 5-day post-surgical hospital stay were taking place a year later, my gown could have been a Diane Von Furstenberg (DVF) original. According to Newsweek, the Cleveland Clinic recently ended a trial period, which began in May, of high fashion hospital gowns designed by DVF and will implement them soon. Hopefully the gown will be more comfortable than ones I've worn for my hospital stays. Oddly, the gown looks nothing like a wrap dress.
For more details on the DVF hospital gown, including a photo, click here.
For more details on the DVF hospital gown, including a photo, click here.
12 August 2010
Six Easy Steps
Six Easy Steps to Getting Complements:
Step 1. Gain weight by eating whatever you want due to depression caused by a cancer diagnosis.
Step 2. Gain more weight by eating whatever you want under doctor's orders while undergoing chemo.
Step 3. Get bloated from steroids being pumped in to you system on a weekly basis due to chemo.
Step 4. Eventually lose the chemo steroid bloat.
Step 5. Have surgery which takes fat from your stomach and uses said fat to rebuild your breasts.
Step 6. Finally lose the weight you gained after your cancer diagnosis so you finally weigh what you did before the cancer diagnosis. (check the blog in a few days for a more serious post on how I actually lost my chemo weight)
Suddenly you will begin to receive all kinds of complements about how skinny you look, even if you weren't all that skinny before the cancer diagnosis.
So now you ask, "How should I respond to all of the complements on my weight loss?" Just smile and say thank you. We don't want to be sharing our secret, or do we?
Step 1. Gain weight by eating whatever you want due to depression caused by a cancer diagnosis.
Step 2. Gain more weight by eating whatever you want under doctor's orders while undergoing chemo.
Step 3. Get bloated from steroids being pumped in to you system on a weekly basis due to chemo.
Step 4. Eventually lose the chemo steroid bloat.
Step 5. Have surgery which takes fat from your stomach and uses said fat to rebuild your breasts.
Step 6. Finally lose the weight you gained after your cancer diagnosis so you finally weigh what you did before the cancer diagnosis. (check the blog in a few days for a more serious post on how I actually lost my chemo weight)
Suddenly you will begin to receive all kinds of complements about how skinny you look, even if you weren't all that skinny before the cancer diagnosis.
So now you ask, "How should I respond to all of the complements on my weight loss?" Just smile and say thank you. We don't want to be sharing our secret, or do we?
05 August 2010
Not so into sharing
According to a recent Wall Street Journal article, the Susan G. Komen For the Cure foundation will fight you if you want to use the term "for the cure." Komen also won't share the color pink. Gee if only it seemed like Komen did more than raise awareness of Komen, I might feel differently about their possessiveness. Komen won't share the phrase or the colors with other breast cancer organizations nor will they share with other cancer foundations and charities. In case you haven't read all of my posts, I'm not so into the pink brigade. I understand the issue from a business/branding angle, but you would think a charity would be a little more understanding. Than again, what do I know?
"Charity Brawl: Nonprofits Aren't So Generous When a Name's at Stake." Wall Street Journal, 8/5/2010. Accessed online on 8/5/2010: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703700904575390950178142586.html?mod=WSJ_business_LeftSecondHighlights#articleTabs%3Darticle
P.S. I'm still recovering from my surgery so my brain is not totally functional otherwise I would probably have a lot more to say about this topic.
"Charity Brawl: Nonprofits Aren't So Generous When a Name's at Stake." Wall Street Journal, 8/5/2010. Accessed online on 8/5/2010: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703700904575390950178142586.html?mod=WSJ_business_LeftSecondHighlights#articleTabs%3Darticle
P.S. I'm still recovering from my surgery so my brain is not totally functional otherwise I would probably have a lot more to say about this topic.
29 July 2010
At Home Recuperating
Surgery was uneventful. Phew! On Tuesday, Brandon and I arrived at the surgical facility at 6:30am, were checked-in immediately, and minutes later I was whisked back into the surgical prep zone. The nurse assigned to prep me was the same nurse as last time (although this time she didn't tell me to stop being a brat). My surgeon arrived soon after, we discussed the surgical plans, and he marked up my torso with a purple pen to note the plans. Brandon was then brought back to see me for a few minutes. Within an hour or so, I was being sedated and wheeled into surgery. I am always amazed at how quickly the sedatives work via the IV.
The surgery lasted a couple of hours, I'm not sure exactly how long. My memories of post-surgery are a little vague. The nurses gave me a pain medicine which made me very dopey and sleepy, and caused me to forget to breathe. The nurses reminded me at least twice to breathe. Brandon was eventually brought back to be with me. The nurses eventually fed me ice chips, tea, and Lorna Doones. I was told that the Lorna Doones may be phased out from the hospital, and this upsets me a bit, so if I am called for a survey about my experience, I will make a comment about keeping the Lorna Doones. I think I was released from the hospital about 1:30ish. The drive home was uneventful. I drank my smoothie and dozed. Brandon and I arrived at home about 3:30ish, and I haven't been back outside since.
The surgery lasted a couple of hours, I'm not sure exactly how long. My memories of post-surgery are a little vague. The nurses gave me a pain medicine which made me very dopey and sleepy, and caused me to forget to breathe. The nurses reminded me at least twice to breathe. Brandon was eventually brought back to be with me. The nurses eventually fed me ice chips, tea, and Lorna Doones. I was told that the Lorna Doones may be phased out from the hospital, and this upsets me a bit, so if I am called for a survey about my experience, I will make a comment about keeping the Lorna Doones. I think I was released from the hospital about 1:30ish. The drive home was uneventful. I drank my smoothie and dozed. Brandon and I arrived at home about 3:30ish, and I haven't been back outside since.
25 July 2010
Prep Work
Before my surgeries, I madly attempt to make my house a more hospitable destination for healing. Since Brandon will not be home with me during the day, I need to know that food and entertainment will be easily accessible. Yesterday, we went to Trader Joe's, where I stocked up on cheese, hummus, crackers, chips, and fruit. After five surgeries, I know what I like to eat when I'm at home and don't feel well. Today has been whirlwind of activity around the house. And now I am exhausted, and drinking my last glass of wine for a few weeks.
I keep thinking that I have forgotten something. And even if I have, it is not the end of the world. But I hate being entirely reliant on someone to do basic tasks for me. I won't be able to drive for a few weeks. I may not be able to sit up by myself. I won't know the full level of my limitations until Tuesday when I wake up from surgery. So I plan and prepare for the worst.
- Today's To Do List included the following tasks
- Multiple loads of laundry, folded and put away. Now I do laundry often, but usually I let the clean clothes pile up on the guest bed until it is time to do laundry again (meaning that the pile is gone).
- Found old VHS tapes to watch. I plan to spend time on guest bed since it is in the "coolest" room in the house. The VCR is in the same room, so I plan to watch some of my old VHS tapes. So glad the movies weren't purchased at the yard sale nor did I give them to Goodwill.
- Prepared and/or cooked the following items for consumption during the upcoming week: chopped cantaloupe, chopped and blended gazpacho, zucchini cake with chocolate chips, and cleaned sweet cherries. Also put ginger ale and sparkling water cans in fridge. And then cooked fresh peaches in grapeseed oil with leftover pulled pork, and corn fritters for dinner.
- Tore out recipes, decorating tips, and party ideas from old issues of the Martha Stewart magazine before tossing the magazines in the recycling bin. Not really a necessary pre-surgical task but something I'd been meaning to do for about a year. What would be a better time than when I've got a billion other things to do? I certainly can't think of one.
I keep thinking that I have forgotten something. And even if I have, it is not the end of the world. But I hate being entirely reliant on someone to do basic tasks for me. I won't be able to drive for a few weeks. I may not be able to sit up by myself. I won't know the full level of my limitations until Tuesday when I wake up from surgery. So I plan and prepare for the worst.
24 July 2010
Thank goodness someone out there is less lazy than I am
Sometimes I don't read my magazines on delivery day. Sometimes, I let the publications pile up in the corner by the couch until they are about to collapse. Once the pile reaches a potentially harmful height, I kick off a mass reading spree infusing my brain with entertainment news, desirable travel destinations, and more recipes than I have the time or energy to cook.
Today I read my Cleveland Clinic newsletter, Catalyst, volume 8, issue 2, Summer 2010. Turns out an immunology researcher at the Clinic has found a way to prevent the development and halt the growth of breast cancer tumors in mice, and may figure out the way to do the same in human women. The key word in the prior sentence is may. But nonetheless, a pretty awesome development in the world of medicine. Maybe I should read my magazines sooner.
For more information, check out this online article, "Cleveland Clinic Researchers Develop Prototype Vaccine To Prevent Breast Cancer" (5/31/10).
Today I read my Cleveland Clinic newsletter, Catalyst, volume 8, issue 2, Summer 2010. Turns out an immunology researcher at the Clinic has found a way to prevent the development and halt the growth of breast cancer tumors in mice, and may figure out the way to do the same in human women. The key word in the prior sentence is may. But nonetheless, a pretty awesome development in the world of medicine. Maybe I should read my magazines sooner.
For more information, check out this online article, "Cleveland Clinic Researchers Develop Prototype Vaccine To Prevent Breast Cancer" (5/31/10).
20 July 2010
Numbers.. It is all about the numbers
According to the blogging software, I am now writing my 100th post. Wow! Who would have thought that I could write even ten posts? Certainly not me.
Yesterday was my 36th birthday. Next month will be the two-year anniversary of me finding that sneaky, evil lump of cells in my boob. And guess what cancer cells, I'm still alive. Screw you!
Next week, I will undergo my sixth surgery (surgeries are as follows: mastectomy, port installation, tissue expander installation, DIEP procedure, and DIEP follow-up #1). Hopefully this procedure will be the last one. My body would like to rest.
Yesterday was my 36th birthday. Next month will be the two-year anniversary of me finding that sneaky, evil lump of cells in my boob. And guess what cancer cells, I'm still alive. Screw you!
Next week, I will undergo my sixth surgery (surgeries are as follows: mastectomy, port installation, tissue expander installation, DIEP procedure, and DIEP follow-up #1). Hopefully this procedure will be the last one. My body would like to rest.
17 July 2010
Howdy!
Just wanted to say hello. I'm still here, and have plenty to say. My summer of livin' has been pretty busy with lots of travel and keeping on the now very soon to explode vegetable garden (photos are on FB if you are a friend of mine). Plus all of my free time has been spent madly knitting what seems to be the world's largest baby blanket for my new nephew, baby Graham. He was born on Wednesday, which is Brandon's birthday, so Brandon now has a new birthday buddy.
As for the blog, I do need to get better about posting. I have tons to say, new photos of inappropriate pink items, and rants. The blog is one of my forms of therapy. My therapist is great at helping me work out issues, but the blog gives a necessary release. I would write more but I need to get working on the "guest" room. Nanette and her husband are coming to visit (yea!) and they need a clean bed and space for their stuff. Right now neither of those requirements exist.
As for the blog, I do need to get better about posting. I have tons to say, new photos of inappropriate pink items, and rants. The blog is one of my forms of therapy. My therapist is great at helping me work out issues, but the blog gives a necessary release. I would write more but I need to get working on the "guest" room. Nanette and her husband are coming to visit (yea!) and they need a clean bed and space for their stuff. Right now neither of those requirements exist.
29 May 2010
Livin'
I can't remember the exact phrase but in one of my favorite movies, Dazed and Confused, the character Wooderson, talks about how he is just living, "livin." While this movie is almost 20 years old (ack!!), I still enjoy quoting it from time to time. Actually, truth be told, I probably quote it on a semi-daily basis.
Today is the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend - the official kick-off weekend of the summer season. My plan is for this summer to be my official summer of livin'. I just want to have fun and enjoy myself. For the past two years I have been bogged down with cancer, my treatments, my recovery, my surgeries, the side effects, the emotional breakdowns, and I'm done. I just want to move on and what better way than to focus on having fun. Brandon and I even started our summer a little early. First by going to Belgium and the Netherlands for a week at the end of April/early May. And then by taking a random vacation day earlier this week to visit Cedar Point (the best roller coaster amusement park in the country!).
So what do I have planned for my summer of fun? Let's see...
That is my list so far, and I'm sure that I am forgetting something. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for activities I can add to this list. We still haven't decided what to do for Birthday week (Brandon's birthday is 7/14 and mine is 7/19). A few years ago we went to Albuquerque, and last year we went to Toronto. Some years, we stay home and try to do something different each night (mini golf, go out for ice cream, watch a movie,...). And Nanette and Chris are planning a visit out here for a couple of days during the week after my birthday. So more activities are sure to be scheduled for this awesome summer of livin'.
P.S. I still need to have one more surgery this summer which will put a slight damper on all the fun to be had. Hopefully the date for this surgery will be chosen on Tuesday.
P.P.S. And I'm going to try to be better about writing the blog. It helps with my emotional and mental healing, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood to write.
Today is the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend - the official kick-off weekend of the summer season. My plan is for this summer to be my official summer of livin'. I just want to have fun and enjoy myself. For the past two years I have been bogged down with cancer, my treatments, my recovery, my surgeries, the side effects, the emotional breakdowns, and I'm done. I just want to move on and what better way than to focus on having fun. Brandon and I even started our summer a little early. First by going to Belgium and the Netherlands for a week at the end of April/early May. And then by taking a random vacation day earlier this week to visit Cedar Point (the best roller coaster amusement park in the country!).
So what do I have planned for my summer of fun? Let's see...
- When in town for a full week, I will work longer days Monday-Thursday so I can schedule Friday afternoons off.
- On these Friday afternoons, I will do something fun including kayaking, going to the movies, drinking sparkling wine in the back yard, or going for a long bike ride.
- Maintain a kickass vegetable garden. Try to get the rest of the yard under control and be relatively attractive.
- Travel to Hilton Head for Brandon's cousin's wedding, and spend a couple of extra days in Savannah.
- Leave a few days early for my annual library conference to spend time with my mother and grandmother. My mother and I are planning to spend one of those days at Rehoboth Beach, one of my favorite places in the world and I haven't been since before all the cancer stuff started.
- Spend a weekend on a pontoon boat and camping with friends in southern Indiana.
- Try new and different restaurants in Columbus (so maybe I'll stop complaining about how boring I think this city can be).
That is my list so far, and I'm sure that I am forgetting something. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for activities I can add to this list. We still haven't decided what to do for Birthday week (Brandon's birthday is 7/14 and mine is 7/19). A few years ago we went to Albuquerque, and last year we went to Toronto. Some years, we stay home and try to do something different each night (mini golf, go out for ice cream, watch a movie,...). And Nanette and Chris are planning a visit out here for a couple of days during the week after my birthday. So more activities are sure to be scheduled for this awesome summer of livin'.
P.S. I still need to have one more surgery this summer which will put a slight damper on all the fun to be had. Hopefully the date for this surgery will be chosen on Tuesday.
P.P.S. And I'm going to try to be better about writing the blog. It helps with my emotional and mental healing, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood to write.
22 April 2010
Unconscionable
WellPoint routinely targets breast cancer patients, from Reuters.
A friend of mine posted this article on Facebook. Since many of my Facebook "friends" are unaware of my relationship with breast cancer, I am posting my comments here. The actions of this health insurance company enrage me. I don't care what disease diagnosis a patient receives, coverage should not be dropped the day before a patient's surgery. Otherwise, what is the point of having health insurance? Please, insurance company, explain that one to me. Why should we pay you money if you have no intention of keeping up your end of the agreement?
My sister was dropped from her insurance plan. We don't know why. She paid her bills on time. She is healthy. No explanation was given when she was dropped. But she was dropped soon after I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Hmmmm, I find the coincidence suspicious. Does anyone else?
Don't even try to tell me that nationalized health care will ruin the United States. My patience for those against revising the health care laws is gone. I have a tendency to take things too personally, but until the laws in this country really change, I will forever be forced to have employer group policy health insurance. No health insurance company would take me now, or if they did, my premiums would be skyhigh. Gone is any dream of being self-employed.
I could go on, but I need to get back to work. I just needed a quick break to vent. Thank you.
A friend of mine posted this article on Facebook. Since many of my Facebook "friends" are unaware of my relationship with breast cancer, I am posting my comments here. The actions of this health insurance company enrage me. I don't care what disease diagnosis a patient receives, coverage should not be dropped the day before a patient's surgery. Otherwise, what is the point of having health insurance? Please, insurance company, explain that one to me. Why should we pay you money if you have no intention of keeping up your end of the agreement?
My sister was dropped from her insurance plan. We don't know why. She paid her bills on time. She is healthy. No explanation was given when she was dropped. But she was dropped soon after I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Hmmmm, I find the coincidence suspicious. Does anyone else?
Don't even try to tell me that nationalized health care will ruin the United States. My patience for those against revising the health care laws is gone. I have a tendency to take things too personally, but until the laws in this country really change, I will forever be forced to have employer group policy health insurance. No health insurance company would take me now, or if they did, my premiums would be skyhigh. Gone is any dream of being self-employed.
I could go on, but I need to get back to work. I just needed a quick break to vent. Thank you.
16 April 2010
Another "Awareness" Campaign
My friend Alex reminded me this morning about the latest in horrifying breast cancer awareness campaigns: KFC's Buckets for the Cure, so I just had to share it with you. For every pink bucket of chicken a consumer purchases, KFC will donate 50 cents to Komen. You can promote for them via your Facebook page (I think not) or submit you personal breast cancer story to their website (again I think not). The web page is very pink. It makes me feel kind of nauseous.
While buckets of chicken don't quite scream breast cancer to me, it could never replace the target pistol in my heart as the oddest breast cancer awareness/fundraiser promotion.
P.S. The personal irony of the chicken campaign for breast cancer for me is, since chemo, I no longer eat much chicken. One time during a chemo session, I ate a chicken ceasar salad, and I haven't been same about chicken ever since.
While buckets of chicken don't quite scream breast cancer to me, it could never replace the target pistol in my heart as the oddest breast cancer awareness/fundraiser promotion.
P.S. The personal irony of the chicken campaign for breast cancer for me is, since chemo, I no longer eat much chicken. One time during a chemo session, I ate a chicken ceasar salad, and I haven't been same about chicken ever since.
05 March 2010
Surgery Follow-Up
Brandon and I traveled to Cleveland yesterday for my post-surgical follow-up visit. Scars are looking good. Magic Fingers is preparing for a presentation and asked if I would allow him to use photos of me, to which I agreed. So I got to have a photo session of my new torso. Otherwise, it was a fairly routine visit. While having the tape scrapped of me, we did chat about Belgium -- turns out Magic Fingers is a big fan, so he gave us some recommendations for our upcoming trip.
In regards to recovering, my energy levels are increasing. On Sunday, when Brandon and I went to Target to get me some spanx-like undergarments (which I will need to wear for about a month to help keep my abdomen in place), he was concerned that I wouldn't be able to walk the entire length of the box store. So he suggested I get one of the motorized carts. What a bizarre experience. Other customers pretty much did their best to not look at me, or avoid me at all cost. The cart did move a bit faster than I would have guessed, so that was pretty cool. But yesterday, I was able to walk around a mall and eat a really high caloric Mrs. Field's cookie. No more motorized carts for me.
I'm sorry this entry is kind of lame. I'm really sleepy but it is too late in the afternoon for me to take a nap. The neighborhood was a buzz with activity this afternoon so I couldn't calm down enough to rest when a nap would have been appropriate. The former neighbor that drives around town on a riding mower recently returned, and he kept revving his ride off and on during prime napping time. The teenagers up the street discovered whistles, so I kept hearing a constant bleet followed by peels of laughter. And someone, somewhere nearby was hammering all afternoon. I think I might go to bed really early tonight. Oh if only my 25-year old self could see me now.
In regards to recovering, my energy levels are increasing. On Sunday, when Brandon and I went to Target to get me some spanx-like undergarments (which I will need to wear for about a month to help keep my abdomen in place), he was concerned that I wouldn't be able to walk the entire length of the box store. So he suggested I get one of the motorized carts. What a bizarre experience. Other customers pretty much did their best to not look at me, or avoid me at all cost. The cart did move a bit faster than I would have guessed, so that was pretty cool. But yesterday, I was able to walk around a mall and eat a really high caloric Mrs. Field's cookie. No more motorized carts for me.
I'm sorry this entry is kind of lame. I'm really sleepy but it is too late in the afternoon for me to take a nap. The neighborhood was a buzz with activity this afternoon so I couldn't calm down enough to rest when a nap would have been appropriate. The former neighbor that drives around town on a riding mower recently returned, and he kept revving his ride off and on during prime napping time. The teenagers up the street discovered whistles, so I kept hearing a constant bleet followed by peels of laughter. And someone, somewhere nearby was hammering all afternoon. I think I might go to bed really early tonight. Oh if only my 25-year old self could see me now.
02 March 2010
Bad Penny
Due to full-time employment benefits and a mother who provides me with a secondary (AKA back-up) insurance policy, I am a very lucky cancer patient. Many young adults don't even have one health insurance policy. I am not going to bore with you my rant on how health care costs in this country are outrageously high or how the health insurance industry can act unconscionably in regards to choosing who has coverage and who doesn't based on family health history (death panels? what?!?). Maybe another day. Needless to say, prior to my cancer diagnosis, I used to complain about my employer's health insurance coverage. I don't complain anymore. All I'm going to say on the topic of health insurance coverage is that I am very, very lucky.
But I am going to tell you the tale of when a bill slips through the cracks. In August 2008, when I was initially diagnosed with breast cancer, I went to the fancy hospital located in northern Ohio. I met great doctors, my body underwent a variety of tests, and then I had my mastectomy. All standard medical procedures which were billed to my insurance company. Due to deductables and out-of-pocket-for-the-year, I owed some money. The bills began to arrive in late October. My wedding was in late of October of that year. My cash flow was tight due to the cash needs for wedding and honeymoon-related expenses. I called the hospital billing department to discuss a payment plan, and was informed that as long as the bill was payed in 120 days, I would be fine. Phew! This meant I could put off paying one medical bill immediately and in its entirety, as other cancer-related bills were arriving daily from my local hospital, the local doctors, and outsourced laboratories.
I created a spreadsheet to help me manage my health-related bills. I color-coded cells denoting who was paid and who needed to be paid next. I had columns for check numbers and dates of service. I was more organized than ever before, and all while undergoing chemo (which began soon after our return from the Caribbean).
The problems arose when I began to disseminate the policy information for the secondary policy. I spent hours on the phone calling different billing departments, asking them to resubmit my charges to this "new" insurance provider. By new, I mean new to the cancer coverage, not new to me since I had been covered by the policy for many years.
When I called the fancy hospital up north, my 120 days were just about up. I had paid some of the total amount but not all of it. I thought I had enough time, but whoever took my call did not send the charges to the secondary insurance company, and by not submitting the charges, the bill was sent to collections. Arghh!!!! To make a very long story as short as possible, between the end of February and the beginning of May, I wrote a letter of dispute to the collection agency, regularly telephoned the hospital's billing department who told me everytime I called that the problem would be fixed, and evaded phone calls from the very friendly-sounding chap from the collection agency who just wanted to chat about my bill. Oh and the amount in dispute was about $150, not very much at all.
In May, I got fed-up with the run-around from the hospital; especially after I'd been informed by one lady that I had been talking to the wrong people. One morning, I demanded to speak with a manager. I explained the situation for the Nth time. Luckily, the manager was extremely sympathetic. He reviewed my case, told me he would do his best to retract the amount from the agency, and if not, would then just remove the amount owed from my account. Basically, whatever he did, the result would be me no longer owing the amount. Sounded good to me, and true to his work, in early July, I received a letter from the manager stating that the amount had been adjusted off my account.
Yesterday, I opened a nondescript envelope. I almost didn't open it. The envelope resembled a magazine renewal notice. No such luck. It seems the original collection agency sold my account to another collection agency and this agency would like to collect my $150. How does a non-existent amount move to a new company? Due to my organizational skills relating to only health-related paperwork (the rest of my life in paper is a complete disaster zone), I retrieved my July letter from the manager. This morning I called him. Luckily he remembers me, and in fact, thought he would never hear from me again. We chatted. He is going to investigate for me. Seeing how the amount was erased from my files, so it shouldn't even exist. He is appropriately concerned and confused by this new development. I should hear back from him tomorrow, or Thursday at the latest.
But I am going to tell you the tale of when a bill slips through the cracks. In August 2008, when I was initially diagnosed with breast cancer, I went to the fancy hospital located in northern Ohio. I met great doctors, my body underwent a variety of tests, and then I had my mastectomy. All standard medical procedures which were billed to my insurance company. Due to deductables and out-of-pocket-for-the-year, I owed some money. The bills began to arrive in late October. My wedding was in late of October of that year. My cash flow was tight due to the cash needs for wedding and honeymoon-related expenses. I called the hospital billing department to discuss a payment plan, and was informed that as long as the bill was payed in 120 days, I would be fine. Phew! This meant I could put off paying one medical bill immediately and in its entirety, as other cancer-related bills were arriving daily from my local hospital, the local doctors, and outsourced laboratories.
I created a spreadsheet to help me manage my health-related bills. I color-coded cells denoting who was paid and who needed to be paid next. I had columns for check numbers and dates of service. I was more organized than ever before, and all while undergoing chemo (which began soon after our return from the Caribbean).
The problems arose when I began to disseminate the policy information for the secondary policy. I spent hours on the phone calling different billing departments, asking them to resubmit my charges to this "new" insurance provider. By new, I mean new to the cancer coverage, not new to me since I had been covered by the policy for many years.
When I called the fancy hospital up north, my 120 days were just about up. I had paid some of the total amount but not all of it. I thought I had enough time, but whoever took my call did not send the charges to the secondary insurance company, and by not submitting the charges, the bill was sent to collections. Arghh!!!! To make a very long story as short as possible, between the end of February and the beginning of May, I wrote a letter of dispute to the collection agency, regularly telephoned the hospital's billing department who told me everytime I called that the problem would be fixed, and evaded phone calls from the very friendly-sounding chap from the collection agency who just wanted to chat about my bill. Oh and the amount in dispute was about $150, not very much at all.
In May, I got fed-up with the run-around from the hospital; especially after I'd been informed by one lady that I had been talking to the wrong people. One morning, I demanded to speak with a manager. I explained the situation for the Nth time. Luckily, the manager was extremely sympathetic. He reviewed my case, told me he would do his best to retract the amount from the agency, and if not, would then just remove the amount owed from my account. Basically, whatever he did, the result would be me no longer owing the amount. Sounded good to me, and true to his work, in early July, I received a letter from the manager stating that the amount had been adjusted off my account.
Yesterday, I opened a nondescript envelope. I almost didn't open it. The envelope resembled a magazine renewal notice. No such luck. It seems the original collection agency sold my account to another collection agency and this agency would like to collect my $150. How does a non-existent amount move to a new company? Due to my organizational skills relating to only health-related paperwork (the rest of my life in paper is a complete disaster zone), I retrieved my July letter from the manager. This morning I called him. Luckily he remembers me, and in fact, thought he would never hear from me again. We chatted. He is going to investigate for me. Seeing how the amount was erased from my files, so it shouldn't even exist. He is appropriately concerned and confused by this new development. I should hear back from him tomorrow, or Thursday at the latest.
27 February 2010
Fresh Air
Wow! I just realized that I haven't been outside of the house since arriving back home Tuesday night after my surgery. No wonder I'm beginning to sense a bit of stir-craziness in my bones. Unfortunately, my mobility is not great, and according to my local news source my county is under a low level snow emergency. Crap! So leaving the house is probably not a good idea. My body would not be so happy with me if I slipped and fell. To give you an idea of my mobility levels, I can barely walk up and the down the stairs on my own, and I can't sit up in bed without assistance. Does anyone have any low energy entertainment suggestions?
26 February 2010
No Tubes!
Earlier this week, I underwent the first of what will probably be two follow-up surgeries to the DIEP procedure that I had in October. The procedure was outpatient. My arrival time was scheduled at 10am. Since I get anxious before any surgery, and am not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before, I felt it best if Brandon and I spent the night near the surgical facility (we live about 1.5 hours away so not being able to even drink water would have made really cranky). Thanks to Priceline, I was able to secure a room for $39 at the hotel closest to the surgical facility. After work, on Monday evening, we headed up north on I-71, checked into the hotel, ate some dinner, wandered around the local mall, and watched some Olympic Ice Dancing on tv.
The next morning, at 10am, I checked in for surgery. Luckily the insurance issues seemed to have been sorted out. The nurses dressed me in a surgical gown, hat, and footies (I did get to keep my penguin socks on underneath the footies). The IV was inserted with no problem. Brandon was then allowed back in pre-op area to sit with me while I waited. And then we waited. My doctor didn't finish the prior patient until almost 2pm. When Magic Fingers did stop by, he was apologetic and said there were no surgeries scheduled after me, so all of his attention could be focused on me. He then grabbed his trusty purple marker and proceeded to draw all over my torso to mark the areas where he planned to work. Brandon said, when the doctor was finished, that my chest and stomach resembled a jack o' lantern.
After the surgeon completed making his markings, the nurses came back, injected some sedatives to my IV, I kissed Brandon, and was out cold. The last thing I remember was lying on my bed and being rolled out of the room where I had been waiting. And then I woke up on the other side (of the room).
The surgical wing was practically empty. Almost everyone had left for the day. Even most of the lights were turned off. Kind of creepy. And none of the remaining nursing staff could answer many of our questions. I simply ate my Lorna Doones, drank some ginger ale, and was ready to go home. My recommendations for anyone having outpatient surgery: Don't be the last patient of the day.
Thankfully, my body seems to be doing ok. I'm sore. I have difficulty bending and picking myself up off the couch or bed. But I don't have any tubes, and having no tubes is a very good place to be.
The next morning, at 10am, I checked in for surgery. Luckily the insurance issues seemed to have been sorted out. The nurses dressed me in a surgical gown, hat, and footies (I did get to keep my penguin socks on underneath the footies). The IV was inserted with no problem. Brandon was then allowed back in pre-op area to sit with me while I waited. And then we waited. My doctor didn't finish the prior patient until almost 2pm. When Magic Fingers did stop by, he was apologetic and said there were no surgeries scheduled after me, so all of his attention could be focused on me. He then grabbed his trusty purple marker and proceeded to draw all over my torso to mark the areas where he planned to work. Brandon said, when the doctor was finished, that my chest and stomach resembled a jack o' lantern.
After the surgeon completed making his markings, the nurses came back, injected some sedatives to my IV, I kissed Brandon, and was out cold. The last thing I remember was lying on my bed and being rolled out of the room where I had been waiting. And then I woke up on the other side (of the room).
The surgical wing was practically empty. Almost everyone had left for the day. Even most of the lights were turned off. Kind of creepy. And none of the remaining nursing staff could answer many of our questions. I simply ate my Lorna Doones, drank some ginger ale, and was ready to go home. My recommendations for anyone having outpatient surgery: Don't be the last patient of the day.
Thankfully, my body seems to be doing ok. I'm sore. I have difficulty bending and picking myself up off the couch or bed. But I don't have any tubes, and having no tubes is a very good place to be.
24 February 2010
Survived Surgery
Later this week, when I'm more coherent I'll write about my day of surgery, but I did want to let you know that I am at home and recuperating. The surgery seems to have been successful, and thanks to my pain medication, I'm feeling pretty good. :)
21 February 2010
Yarn Shopping
Yesterday, Brandon and I drove to the town of Wooster for a Saturday afternoon get-away. Wooster is a lovely town about an hour north of where we live, with cute shops and a few organic/local food-themed restaurants. A delightful vineyard is on the town’s outskirts, so we even stopped for a glass of wine on our way into town. Our destinations in Wooster were a yarn store, a music equipment store, and a bakery/restaurant for dinner. Because we got to town soon before closing time for the yarn and music stores, Brandon and I went our separate ways to visit our respective shopping destinations.
My store of choice was the yarn store. As I wandered among the colorful yarns of varying textures, I couldn’t help but overhear different conversations. The owner of the store seemed to be cultivating an environment where one felt comfortable to discuss any and all topics.
The first conversation I overheard was between the store owner and a woman about my age, maybe a little older. The customer was looking at patterns for infants. She had recently been through the adoption vetting process, and had been approved. Now all she had to do was wait, and make plans to knit a “welcome home” gift for the baby. Since all conversations about babies and adoption make me a little teary, I became misty eyed as I listened to the two ladies chat.
The second overhead conversation was between two ladies as they knit the world’s largest sock (an ongoing project at the store). Their discussion was about family, ailments, hospitals, and psychology. One of the women chose the moment I was standing near the table to reveal her cancer history. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer at 36 or 37 (she looked now to be in her 60s or early 70s). At some point many years ago, she had surgery to remove her ovaries. About two years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her story yesterday afternoon was about the experience of learning that one’s cancer has metastasized and the treatments that followed the new diagnosis. If you have ever been diagnosed with cancer, the fear of learning that your cancer has spread or returned is a nightmare that haunts all visits to the doctor. I could barely contain my sad emotions as I overheard this one woman’s very personal story.
I quickly chose 2 skeins of sparkly blue/gray Borocco yarn, paid for the yarn, and scurried out of the store when I began sobbing. With nowhere to hide, I spotted a nook in the front of nearby bank. I tried to stop crying, and the cold cement seat in the nook helped a bit. Since I have decided to not take anti-depressants, I do need to get better control of my emotions. Luckily Brandon soon wrapped up his shopping and was able to console me. We then went to eat our delicious dinner. I had a goat cheese and spinach salad with crab chowder. Brandon had a goat cheese and sausage pizza. For dessert, Brandon chose bananas foster and I had a Belgian chocolate crème. It was a day that deserved a dessert finale.
My store of choice was the yarn store. As I wandered among the colorful yarns of varying textures, I couldn’t help but overhear different conversations. The owner of the store seemed to be cultivating an environment where one felt comfortable to discuss any and all topics.
The first conversation I overheard was between the store owner and a woman about my age, maybe a little older. The customer was looking at patterns for infants. She had recently been through the adoption vetting process, and had been approved. Now all she had to do was wait, and make plans to knit a “welcome home” gift for the baby. Since all conversations about babies and adoption make me a little teary, I became misty eyed as I listened to the two ladies chat.
The second overhead conversation was between two ladies as they knit the world’s largest sock (an ongoing project at the store). Their discussion was about family, ailments, hospitals, and psychology. One of the women chose the moment I was standing near the table to reveal her cancer history. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer at 36 or 37 (she looked now to be in her 60s or early 70s). At some point many years ago, she had surgery to remove her ovaries. About two years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her story yesterday afternoon was about the experience of learning that one’s cancer has metastasized and the treatments that followed the new diagnosis. If you have ever been diagnosed with cancer, the fear of learning that your cancer has spread or returned is a nightmare that haunts all visits to the doctor. I could barely contain my sad emotions as I overheard this one woman’s very personal story.
I quickly chose 2 skeins of sparkly blue/gray Borocco yarn, paid for the yarn, and scurried out of the store when I began sobbing. With nowhere to hide, I spotted a nook in the front of nearby bank. I tried to stop crying, and the cold cement seat in the nook helped a bit. Since I have decided to not take anti-depressants, I do need to get better control of my emotions. Luckily Brandon soon wrapped up his shopping and was able to console me. We then went to eat our delicious dinner. I had a goat cheese and spinach salad with crab chowder. Brandon had a goat cheese and sausage pizza. For dessert, Brandon chose bananas foster and I had a Belgian chocolate crème. It was a day that deserved a dessert finale.
20 February 2010
FYI OMG
Earlier this week, I learned about the OMG! Cancer Summit for Young Adults. The 3rd annual conference will be held on May 23, 2010 in New York on the campus of Pace University. The event sounds like a wonderful opportunity to meet other young people who share similar cancer-related concerns. The day-long event will offer networking opportunities and host different panel discussions. Panel topics of high interest to me are on fertility issues and living life after cancer, but also listed on the agenda are conversations on employment/insurance, sex & relationships, and social media advocacy. Well known names in the young person's cancer world, including Kairol Rosenthal, author of Everything Changes: The Insider's Guide to Cancer in Your 20s and 30s and Matthew Zachary, founder of I'm Too Young For This!, are highlighted as panel participants, I don't know if I will be able to attend, but I am most definitely considering it.
To learn more about OMG! 2010 go to http://omgsummit.org/2010/index.html. Registration begins on April 5.
To learn more about OMG! 2010 go to http://omgsummit.org/2010/index.html. Registration begins on April 5.
19 February 2010
Trauma at Target
Over the past year and half, health insurance has not caused me much stress. Exchanges with my insurance company have been relatively smooth, a few bumps but nothing major. Due to the ongoing nature of cancer treatments, a case worker was assigned to me so I have regular human contact which is handy whenever a potentially confusing issue arises. My case worker has been invaluable in my cancer/doctor/insurance journey.
With my next surgery scheduled for Tuesday, I needed a physical in order to be "officially" approved for the procedure. My now healthy body passed with flying colors. While at the clinic, I was shown paperwork with my insurance information, and it looked fine to me. How wrong I was.
About an hour after leaving the facility, I am shopping in Target, enjoying a stroll through the underwear section when my phone rings. Of course, I can't get to the phone in time, and soon receive a cryptic message from an employee at the facility telling me to have her paged when I call back and her work schedule for the next few days. I return the call immediately. Turns out the woman works in the billing department, and is calling my insurance companies to get approval for the procedure (which was done months ago by my doctor's office). Without going into too much boring detail, she tells me she couldn't understand my different insurances and that I had almost needed to pay the hospital $5000 before my procedure. But, after leaving me the message, she soon deduced that I had two insurance policies, and was on the other line with my primary plan. The entire conversation unnerved me since she seemed to have little understanding of what I assumed were basic insurance transactions. And she chided me for never telling my primary insurance company about my secondary. Since the issue of introducing my two insurance plans had never come up before, I don't know why I should be scolded for it now.
About ten minutes later, I remembered that the procedure had been pre-certified by my primary insurance company, so I called her back. In the meantime, she seemed to have gained a better grasp of the situation. But I was still concerned, so I called my case worker. My advocate could already see the report of the call, and assured me that all would be fine. Especially since I have a history of a malignancy (guaranteed coverage!) and the procedure is outpatient (no pre-certification is needed). Go case workers!
So in conclusion, twenty-five minutes later, I am still in Target. Through all of these conversations, I am wandering from the underwear wall into the sock aisle (good discounts), passing through women's wear, and finally sitting at a table in the cafe area. Yes, I was the annoying person talking about extremely private issues on a mobile phone in a public arena. In my defense, one of the reasons why I kept moving through various areas in the store was to be where no one else was shopping. Except that during my movements through the store, with a cart, a large Early Gray tea dripped large drops of brown liquid on the front and arm of a new white sweater. After wrapping up my conversations, I found all kinds of delightful products to ease my pain. Thank goodness for shopping therapy, I feel much better now.
With my next surgery scheduled for Tuesday, I needed a physical in order to be "officially" approved for the procedure. My now healthy body passed with flying colors. While at the clinic, I was shown paperwork with my insurance information, and it looked fine to me. How wrong I was.
About an hour after leaving the facility, I am shopping in Target, enjoying a stroll through the underwear section when my phone rings. Of course, I can't get to the phone in time, and soon receive a cryptic message from an employee at the facility telling me to have her paged when I call back and her work schedule for the next few days. I return the call immediately. Turns out the woman works in the billing department, and is calling my insurance companies to get approval for the procedure (which was done months ago by my doctor's office). Without going into too much boring detail, she tells me she couldn't understand my different insurances and that I had almost needed to pay the hospital $5000 before my procedure. But, after leaving me the message, she soon deduced that I had two insurance policies, and was on the other line with my primary plan. The entire conversation unnerved me since she seemed to have little understanding of what I assumed were basic insurance transactions. And she chided me for never telling my primary insurance company about my secondary. Since the issue of introducing my two insurance plans had never come up before, I don't know why I should be scolded for it now.
About ten minutes later, I remembered that the procedure had been pre-certified by my primary insurance company, so I called her back. In the meantime, she seemed to have gained a better grasp of the situation. But I was still concerned, so I called my case worker. My advocate could already see the report of the call, and assured me that all would be fine. Especially since I have a history of a malignancy (guaranteed coverage!) and the procedure is outpatient (no pre-certification is needed). Go case workers!
So in conclusion, twenty-five minutes later, I am still in Target. Through all of these conversations, I am wandering from the underwear wall into the sock aisle (good discounts), passing through women's wear, and finally sitting at a table in the cafe area. Yes, I was the annoying person talking about extremely private issues on a mobile phone in a public arena. In my defense, one of the reasons why I kept moving through various areas in the store was to be where no one else was shopping. Except that during my movements through the store, with a cart, a large Early Gray tea dripped large drops of brown liquid on the front and arm of a new white sweater. After wrapping up my conversations, I found all kinds of delightful products to ease my pain. Thank goodness for shopping therapy, I feel much better now.
16 February 2010
Hat Free Zone
Last winter, I always had my bald head covered with either a cranial prosthetic or hat. I didn't want anyone to see my hair-free head. Not even Brandon. The idea of being bald made me unhappy and uncomfortable, the reality was even worse. A hat became a symbol of hiding. Now a year later, it is winter again, and the ice and snow show no signs of relenting. And I don't want to wear a hat.
I know hats are good for you. A hat keeps your body warm. And warm is good. Very good. But I still don't want to wear a hat. Hopefully, many years from now and after many therapy sessions, I will overcome my remaining psychological issues pertaining to chemo (so I apologize to you, those who read this blog, for the continuing chemo-related posts).
The reason why I choose to wear a hat this winter is so I can remain healthy for my next surgery. I don't want any pesky winter ailment holding me back from getting my next surgical procedure. Someday I will be normal again. I will wear a hat because I want to wear a hat, and I won't have another surgery on the horizon.
I know hats are good for you. A hat keeps your body warm. And warm is good. Very good. But I still don't want to wear a hat. Hopefully, many years from now and after many therapy sessions, I will overcome my remaining psychological issues pertaining to chemo (so I apologize to you, those who read this blog, for the continuing chemo-related posts).
The reason why I choose to wear a hat this winter is so I can remain healthy for my next surgery. I don't want any pesky winter ailment holding me back from getting my next surgical procedure. Someday I will be normal again. I will wear a hat because I want to wear a hat, and I won't have another surgery on the horizon.
13 February 2010
Surgery Scheduled
My first of two followup surgeries for my DIEP procedure has finally been scheduled. I will go under the knife on February 23rd. When I last saw Magic Fingers (my nickname for my surgeon), he said this surgery should only take a couple of hours. Compared with the 15 hours of the last one, two hours is nothing.
Now begins my mad dash to complete all the half-finished projects at work. Plus I will need to find time some day this week (exact time and date are TBD) to go to a doctor, have a not very invasive physical to determine if my body can withstand surgery, and get some blood drawn. A chance exists that I may get to go to my local doctor, but with the scheduling being so last minute, I worry that I won't be able to make an appointment with enough time. Sometimes my doctor's office can be difficult when making appointments, although it seems ever since I entered into the world of breast cancer, I get some preferential treatment. My local doctor was diagnosed with it last year, and I wonder if my file has been tagged because I've been able to get an appointment fairly easily, and sometimes when I am not even sure if the office is open for business. If I can't see the local doctor, I will probably be making a day-long trip to Cleveland.
I need to stop stressing about work, but I've got a lot to do in a very short time. And this time it is not because I am procrastinator (which I am). If this surgery were happening over the summer, I would not be as nearly stressed as I am today. I work at a college, so my stress levels vary depending upon the semester cycle. Since spring break is only a couple of weeks away, students are needing midterm assistance. I've got a library instruction session scheduled for early this week. Each one of these sessions needs to be custom tailored to the class, and even more specifically, to the assignment. Ack! Plus I am one of the main planners for an event for the campus which is scheduled for right after my surgery, which means I've got a lot of work to do before my surgery. Some of the work can be delegated but it does look like I'll be going to work today, on Saturday, so I can begin the week being partially organized. Boo!
Now begins my mad dash to complete all the half-finished projects at work. Plus I will need to find time some day this week (exact time and date are TBD) to go to a doctor, have a not very invasive physical to determine if my body can withstand surgery, and get some blood drawn. A chance exists that I may get to go to my local doctor, but with the scheduling being so last minute, I worry that I won't be able to make an appointment with enough time. Sometimes my doctor's office can be difficult when making appointments, although it seems ever since I entered into the world of breast cancer, I get some preferential treatment. My local doctor was diagnosed with it last year, and I wonder if my file has been tagged because I've been able to get an appointment fairly easily, and sometimes when I am not even sure if the office is open for business. If I can't see the local doctor, I will probably be making a day-long trip to Cleveland.
I need to stop stressing about work, but I've got a lot to do in a very short time. And this time it is not because I am procrastinator (which I am). If this surgery were happening over the summer, I would not be as nearly stressed as I am today. I work at a college, so my stress levels vary depending upon the semester cycle. Since spring break is only a couple of weeks away, students are needing midterm assistance. I've got a library instruction session scheduled for early this week. Each one of these sessions needs to be custom tailored to the class, and even more specifically, to the assignment. Ack! Plus I am one of the main planners for an event for the campus which is scheduled for right after my surgery, which means I've got a lot of work to do before my surgery. Some of the work can be delegated but it does look like I'll be going to work today, on Saturday, so I can begin the week being partially organized. Boo!
06 February 2010
"Humor in Medicine"
I assume if I mention The Onion, America's Finest News Source, you are aware of the satirical newspaper/website. If not, I'm sorry. Actually I'm not sorry, you should know what it is.
A while back, I was trolling around on The Onion's website and came across this humorous story about a breast cancer run. Enjoy!
A while back, I was trolling around on The Onion's website and came across this humorous story about a breast cancer run. Enjoy!
04 February 2010
Fuzzy Brain
Recently a thought occurred to me: the popular children's rhyme about Fuzzy Wuzzy is a metaphor for chemo. Hair loss is only one of many side effects. A fuzzy or muddled brain is another. At times I wonder if my short term memory is gone forever. Sometimes when participating in a simple conversation, I will forget my thought. I often can’t remember what was said minutes before (by me or my conversational partner). Even as I write this blog entry, I am forgetting my thoughts mid-sentence and then sit at the computer waiting for the thought to return.
Now I know what you are thinking. You think “I forget things.” True. You probably do. Before chemo, I too would forget what item I sought in the living room or my truly brilliant reply within a conversation. But this sense of forgetfulness is a constant presence, whether I am at work or at play. At times, I worry that I’m forgetting something really important. In fact, right now, I know I had a “bigger picture” point to make in this blog entry but sadly it is escaping me at the moment.
Now I know what you are thinking. You think “I forget things.” True. You probably do. Before chemo, I too would forget what item I sought in the living room or my truly brilliant reply within a conversation. But this sense of forgetfulness is a constant presence, whether I am at work or at play. At times, I worry that I’m forgetting something really important. In fact, right now, I know I had a “bigger picture” point to make in this blog entry but sadly it is escaping me at the moment.
03 February 2010
Betsy Update
Tonight Betsy climbed into my lap and snuggled with me for the first time since the surgery. She can be such a sweet little kitty when she wants to be. Oh happy day!
30 January 2010
Cat Psychology
Lately my cat, Betsy, has been acting strange. Brandon and I aren't sure how old she is. The vet seems to think she is anywhere between the ages of 9 and 12, and offers to give her a senior pet exam to help us diagnose what the issues may be. She sits and meows at me for no reason. I think she has become a "kitty treat" addict, and is going through withdrawal if I don't feed her 10 treats a day.
Sometimes I call Betsy my teenage daughter. One moment she will be all cuddly and needy, the next moment I can't do anything right. But now all she does is yell at me. She won't cuddle, which is why I think she has been acting strange lately. She purrs and will come near me but she won't sit in my lap. Her actions have made me sad. Especially when I see her cuddling with Brandon.
Yesterday I had a lightbulb moment. Betsy is afraid to sit in my lap. After my surgery, we were vigilant in keeping the cats away from my torso. One night, soon after I returned home from the hospital, Brandon woke up to me breathing oddly and found Betsy asleep on my chest -- not good. We were constantly telling her no. Or simply picking her up and removing her. Which would now explain why she will not come near me, or is at the very least, extremely hesitant to come near me.
Since more surgery is in the not so far off future, I don't want to continue to confuse her, so I will not force the issue and continue to invite her onto my lap, but the lack of kitty cuddles still makes me sad.
24 January 2010
Hair Again
Last weekend I traveled to Boston for a librarian conference. It was my first trip since my surgery in October (we didn't travel anywhere for the holidays because of a multi-week bout of bronchitis). My energy levels were surprisingly high, although on my return home, I basically collapsed and spent several days recovering from exhaustion. The conference was a wonderful opportunity to see close friends and professional colleagues from around the country, and to be in a large city.
Since Brandon and I didn't travel for the holidays, for the past couple of months, basically the only people we've seen are coworkers and my team of medical professionals. Since I hadn't seen many people in a long time (rural Ohio is shockingly not high on many people's destination lists), the conference was the big debut of my new curly hair. My hair is curly. Every day it gets curlier and curlier.
Now I don't want to sound rude or unpleasant, but it really difficult for me to accept compliments on my hair. I hear that it looks good, but it really hard for me to politely respond to compliments on a hair style that I didn't want. For those who don't know, curls are a side effect of chemo. How would you like a daily reminder of a horrible time period of your life? And then for people to compliment you on it?
I know that most people don't know curly hair is a side effect of chemo. I can say thank you to your compliments, but don't push me to explain why. My anger and sadness at the cancer diagnosis are still simmering just below the surface, and if you pester me to tell you why my hair is curly, I may just go ape shit on you. Don't say I didn't warn you. I see your face when you pester me for a further explanation, and I say that it is a side effect of chemo. You didn't want to hear that did you?
As my hair continues to curl, I've mulled over an appropriate response to queries, seeking an answer which says says I didn't ask for this style and stop asking me about it. While in Boston, an answer came to me, "I call it my $100,000 perm." Ha!
Since Brandon and I didn't travel for the holidays, for the past couple of months, basically the only people we've seen are coworkers and my team of medical professionals. Since I hadn't seen many people in a long time (rural Ohio is shockingly not high on many people's destination lists), the conference was the big debut of my new curly hair. My hair is curly. Every day it gets curlier and curlier.
Now I don't want to sound rude or unpleasant, but it really difficult for me to accept compliments on my hair. I hear that it looks good, but it really hard for me to politely respond to compliments on a hair style that I didn't want. For those who don't know, curls are a side effect of chemo. How would you like a daily reminder of a horrible time period of your life? And then for people to compliment you on it?
I know that most people don't know curly hair is a side effect of chemo. I can say thank you to your compliments, but don't push me to explain why. My anger and sadness at the cancer diagnosis are still simmering just below the surface, and if you pester me to tell you why my hair is curly, I may just go ape shit on you. Don't say I didn't warn you. I see your face when you pester me for a further explanation, and I say that it is a side effect of chemo. You didn't want to hear that did you?
As my hair continues to curl, I've mulled over an appropriate response to queries, seeking an answer which says says I didn't ask for this style and stop asking me about it. While in Boston, an answer came to me, "I call it my $100,000 perm." Ha!
21 January 2010
Chemo Flashback
What is the number one signal to the world that someone is undergoing chemotherapy? Hair loss, right? Well, did you ever stop to think that chemo patients lose more than just the hair on top of their head? Think about... Chemo patients lose all types of body hair from all areas of the body. Leg hair loss... great! Arm hair loss... not so great, but not a big deal. Nose hair loss... didn't think of that one, did you?
One of the worst aspects of chemo is losing nose hair. Definitely not a worrisome concern. The nurses don't even mention nose hair loss to you when they go over the potential side effects with you. But all of sudden your nose has no control of the snot in your head. The experience is horrid. A runny nose takes on a whole new meaning.
So today, my sinuses decided to act up. Not sure why, just something in the air. But my nose will not stop running. The snot goes from 0 to 60 in no time flat. I guess not all of my nose hairs grew back.
One of the worst aspects of chemo is losing nose hair. Definitely not a worrisome concern. The nurses don't even mention nose hair loss to you when they go over the potential side effects with you. But all of sudden your nose has no control of the snot in your head. The experience is horrid. A runny nose takes on a whole new meaning.
So today, my sinuses decided to act up. Not sure why, just something in the air. But my nose will not stop running. The snot goes from 0 to 60 in no time flat. I guess not all of my nose hairs grew back.
08 January 2010
Blue, Yellow, White, Nude, Whatever
Someone please explain to me how announcing the color of one's bra on Facebook is raising awareness of breast cancer. As someone who has had breast cancer, I actually find the activity offensive. And since last night, every time I log on to Facebook, I find another color posted as someone's status update, and get enraged all over again. Who comes up with these ideas?
On a personal note, I can't even where a normal bra yet. I wear white medical bras, which resemble sports bras, but clasp in the front. Very sexy. Very. Hopefully, my breasts will be able to handle wearing normal bras sometime soon, but I have no idea when. So even if I didn't have all of my pent-up anger towards cancer, I'd still feel left out right now because I can't wear a real bra. Thanks for reminding me, whoever you are who thought this bra color update was a good idea.
Maybe I am alone in my rage. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I am. I find most breast cancer awareness activities superficial. Why don't we discuss the causes of breast cancer and the effects of breast cancer on our persons and our society rather than wearing pink and feeling smug? Or posting the color of our bras? What the fuck does that do?
On a personal note, I can't even where a normal bra yet. I wear white medical bras, which resemble sports bras, but clasp in the front. Very sexy. Very. Hopefully, my breasts will be able to handle wearing normal bras sometime soon, but I have no idea when. So even if I didn't have all of my pent-up anger towards cancer, I'd still feel left out right now because I can't wear a real bra. Thanks for reminding me, whoever you are who thought this bra color update was a good idea.
Maybe I am alone in my rage. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I am. I find most breast cancer awareness activities superficial. Why don't we discuss the causes of breast cancer and the effects of breast cancer on our persons and our society rather than wearing pink and feeling smug? Or posting the color of our bras? What the fuck does that do?
01 January 2010
2010
I kicked off the new year this morning by jamming the bread knife in my thumb, so I am going to simply hope that the year can only get better and brighter from here on out. Wishing all of you only the best for the upcoming months.
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year!
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