Biological Tick Tock

Back in my 30's everyone was concerned with their biological clock.  Which meant having babies.  If you were 35 unmarried and had not had children surely everyone in a 10 mile radius could actually "hear" your clock ticking.

Interestingly I feel a bit similar right now.

Of course my kids are older, and the clock I can hear ticking has nothing to do with babies.

My clock is ticking with the hope I will NOT get another cancer before I can prevent it.

Confused?

When I discovered my mutation the thought was to remove my ovaries and tubes first THEN do breast surgery to remove the risk of breast cancer.

Currently I'm on plan B

Found cancer early...treated it.

Hope to hell I can recover from chemo...and beat the clock before I am diagnosed with breast cancer.

I *could* be zen and say "Que sera, sera...whatever will be, will be"

But I think I'd need some better drugs or a nice grey goose cosmo (or 3)

to get me there.

When it comes to my BRCA mutation I'm a believer.

Cancer?  Is not an if...it's a when.

Tick...tick...tick...

Hammer time #6...

Last One!

I said a happy farewell to Roberta yesterday!  She served her purpose but was getting a little too clingy and yesterday was even hogging my TV.

SO buh-bye Roberta!

I had a late Chemo appointment, I wound up finishing up at 6:00pm and was the last patient in the cancer infusion center.  When you do your last round of chemo you get to ring the bell signaling the end of treatment.  Since I was the only patient in the center I thought it might be quiet...but luckily I had 2 of my favorite and loudest chemo nurses standing by to make sure I was properly cheered as I rang the bell.

Gotta love my chemo nurses <3

Ringing the bell and loving my bald head...or trying to.

I hear hair regrowth starts in the next 3 weeks...and that's a whole new ballgame!

I hear it'll be curly and grey...so pretty!

or NOT.

I guess we'll see!

My kids, mom and sister plus our 2 dogs are here for Christmas.  So happy to have them all under one roof in our new home for the holidays.

I wish you all a much happiness and health in the new year!

I have decided to continue my blog to talk about life after chemo, follow-up appointments and my BRCA journey.

So stay tuned...

Crossing the Finish Line

Coming up to my last round of Chemo

I have to say when I was diagnosed in August hearing I would be undergoing 6 rounds of Chemotherapy over the course of the next 18 weeks...

Seemed like FOREVER.

I'm pleased to say it's almost over.

I'm somewhat ambivalent about it.

I mean I am thrilled to have gotten through it.  So happy it's over.

But it opens yet another chapter in my life.

The chapter of Survivor

Which means follow up appointments every 3 months to check for a recurrence

It means checking off "Cancer" every time I have to fill out a health related form.

Gotta say that is all hard to think about right now.

One thing I have learned as a cancer patient is to strive for 2 words everyday.

BE HAPPY

Life is just too short not to be happy.

Some days it's easy to be happy, other days I have to work at it.

About 26 years ago I was on vacation in Mexico with a good friend

 (I'm looking at you Callahan) 

We ended up surviving a category 5 hurricane.

We learned a lot from the experience

That perhaps taking your passport when you're evacuated was a better choice than say

...your make-up and curling iron.

In the midst of all of the chaos the song 

"Don't Worry..Be Happy" was popular.  

Although we rolled our eyes every time it played, while we were stuck in post hurricane Cancun, it did somehow make us feel better.

I think I can make a connection between surviving a Cat. 5 hurricane and Cancer.

Both are scary and life threatening.

However worrying doesn't do anything but make you feel bad.

 I am a master worry-er

So fighting cancer I learned to quit worrying so much and start enjoying life more

Looking forward to breaking up with my BFF Roberta the Chemo IV pump on Monday.

She's gotten a little too clingy.

Looking forward to being a SURVIVOR.

Breaking Bald

When I first discovered I was going to be receiving chemo, one of the first questions I asked was "Will I lose my hair?"  The answer was yes and 3 weeks after my first infusion of Taxol, I started shedding massive amounts of hair.

Now I have been bald for 3 months.  I have a collection of hats, scarves and a wig.  Until recently I wore them all whenever I went out of the house.

Scrub hat for work

Partial collection...and yes a large miralax bottle makes a fine wig form :)

But truthfully I hate wearing them.  They are hot, sometimes itchy and they make me fidget.  I've always been that way, you can ask my mother...if it was itchy I'm not wearing it.  (yes, mom, I know you are nodding in agreement right now)

So lately I had been pondering the question of why am I covering up the bald...or as my son calls it #ChromeDome?  Obviously men wear the bald all the time and no one thinks twice.

Who loves ya baby?

  I thought about when I saw women bald...did I notice them? Truthfully yes, yes I did.  Was it offensive? no, if anything I thought they were brave and most looked good bald.

So why am I still covering the bald?

Some of it is a lack of femininity.  But most has to do with being bald in public is a bit like announcing to the world "I have Cancer".  It makes me feel vulnerable.

Then I realized that a baseball cap, scarf or wig, on my bald head is really NOT camouflaging the bald ...at all. Pssst people can tell....

So after polling some friends and getting up the nerve I have been in public all week

stark...raving....BALD!

And I'm excited to report...no one cared.

And it felt so good! 

LONG LIVE THE BALD!

Well at least until I have some hair..

(and I love the fact my glasses cover my lack of eyebrows!)

And a little BRCA humor...

FOCUS

I'm starting to look at what comes next after cancer treatment.  Which is such a happy thing and yet scary as well.  When I was diagnosed back in August, all the plans I had for the next year went out the window.  We had just moved to a new home and I had been accepted to a new graduate school program.  All of that needed to be put on hold.  If I'm being honest my thought pattern felt a little like this:

Focused on chemo and cancer...yes, but in a sickening and dizzy way.

It was a time to batten down the hatches and get ready to fight.  Which I did.  My family has as well. 

SCARY as hell.  And yet, coming out the other side it has changed me in a way that I know is going to make me a better person.  

I feel a little like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life"

Cancer may have been my "Clarence"

A wake up call before it's too late to appreciate all the good things in life without all the insignificant crap that really doesn't mean anything in the long run.

Looking forward to a new focus and hoping when life becomes crazy again

 (as I know it will) 

I remember to focus on what's really important 

The people who really matter and let go of the rest.

Here Comes The Sun

This has always been one of my favorite Beatle's songs

Coming out my Chemo haze and the sun seems to be joining me.

Lots to look forward to:

The holidays with family

New work digs

My mother and daughter here for the holidays

and only 1 more Chemo Treatment to go!

Today, going to soak in some sun, and maybe have a lunch date with my husband,

All good!

Hammer time -Chemo #5 and some random thoughts about having cancer.

Chemotherapy today, treatment #5 

Pleased to say it well, and I'm home feeling ok, just a little tired.

In my cancer center there's a main waiting room.  Where patients wait for lab work, chemo and to see physicians.

Before I had cancer I went to this waiting room to wait for my blood work and see my doctor.  This waiting room is a bit of an eye opener.  Since you see all different types of people.  Some are obviously sick, others bald but look ok, and the rest look healthy.  I distinctly remember being there before my diagnosis and thinking "This is a club I hope to never join"

yeah, I did

Well guess who's now a card carrying member?

ME!

Over the past 4 months I've learned how to pace myself, manage my time and be more positive.  Chemo sucks.  But when I sit in the waiting room now waiting for chemo, I think I am more relaxed then I was before I was diagnosed.  

I've lived one of my "worst case scenarios" and lived to tell the tale.

One thing I have noticed is that I am always reluctant to tell people what kind of cancer I have.

Frankly, it's none of their business, but more importantly people seem to look at you like ..you're already dead.

Ovarian cancer has quite the reputation.

Rightly so.

I confess I used to think that way too.

But now I know better.

My cancer was discovered early, so I have a good prognosis. 

AND even those 

who are diagnosed with advanced disease are living longer and may consider it a chronic disease, where you go in and out of remission and need further chemo.

Who knew?  

Well now I do, and you do too.

One of the other pet peeves I have about cancer is baldness.

Oh it's hard, but what's really hard is it screams

"I HAVE CANCER!"

To everyone...everywhere.

I'm a pretty open person with my friends and family.  Even co-workers as we work closely together. 

But a month or so ago I was at a work related class and was accosted by a woman who was a breast cancer survivor.  I know her heart was in the right place.  But pinning me to wall and asking loudly if "I was her SISTER" 

was uncomfortable for me and everyone else in the room.

Some bald people hate this kind of attention even more.

So tread carefully

The people I do enjoy are those who quietly come up to me in the grocery store or hobby lobby and say in a quiet voice to "Hang in there, it's going to be ok, your hair will grow back, I'm X years out and doing fine"

And then leave.

I kind of think of them as angels

reminding me, I'm going to be ok.