Leap of Faith

Blossom rides first class in the shopping cart.

Something warmed my heart yesterday.

Since we moved into our home a year and a half ago, Blossom’s activity level has increased.  She was too skinny at her last check-up, so I’ve been trying to put weight on her.  I last weighed her at PetSmart when we visited Santa in December. (This store has a veterinary office inside.)  I think she’s gained a little, so it was time for a weigh-in.

Seth parked the truck, grabbed a shopping cart, and placed Blossom – soft carrier and all – inside the cart. Once we were safely inside the vestibule, I unzipped the top panel of the bag so Blossom could peek out if she wished.

As we proceeded into the store, Blossom popped her head out of the bag and immediately drew a crowd, as she tends to do.  All the attention, though, was not appreciated!  She leapt from her bag, found footing on the collapsed child seat of the cart, and flung herself over the handle and into my arms!  If she could talk, she would have said, “Mommy, protect me!”

Fortunately I’ve caught this leaping bunny before.

It seems that whenever Blossom is scared, she wants me to hold her.  Before Sunday, this only happened at the vet’s office where I can never get more than an arm’s length away from the exam table; given the chance, Blossom will leap out to me through thin air.  If I’m standing right at the side of the table, she will put one paw on each of my shoulders and climb into my arms.

It’s always shocking when a 16+ pound bunny throws herself at you.  But it’s also incredibly heartwarming. And yesterday it made me feel really good about myself.  Like I must be a good person to deserve such trust from this precious, innocent creature.  She made me feel… loved.

Back to You

I’m not feeling spectacular, but I wanted to provide a brief update regarding my back.

The orthopedist confirmed that my back is ‘structurally sound.’  This is really good news because I don’t need any other issues!  The theory is that my muscles may be extra-susceptible to atrophy as a side effect of the Xalkori.  And since I can’t walk very far (breathing), I’m not maintaining them either.

That said, it surely feels like a serious problem when I can’t stand or walk for very long.  And it irritates me when I or others say, “it’s only muscular.”  Oh well…

The doctor wrote a script for physical therapy, and my appointment for evaluation is on Tuesday.  It should be interesting.  How do you exercise someone who can’t breathe enough to exercise?  I’m hoping for massage therapy.  Stay tuned!

Wait a Minute

I’ve struggled with my weight all my life.  And by struggle, I mean that the numbers on the scale have haunted and tortured me for decades.

When I was young I was very active.  My brother and I were outside goofing around all the time.  In grade school, I began twirling baton in the individual competitive circuit, and I was really good.  I would practice hours each day, so burning calories wasn’t a problem.  Still, I was always cognizant that I wasn’t rail-thin like the other competitors.

Through middle and high school I continued to worry about my weight.  I wasn’t the heaviest girl in my class, not by far, but it certainly felt that way.  Looking back now, I was probably not nearly as disgusting as I thought I was.  In 10th or 11th grade I discovered that a very low calorie diet was the key to losing weight.  Exercise did nothing but make me hungrier.  Starvation was the way to go.

And then on to college.  I gained the “Freshmen 15,” but being around a more diverse group of people made it seem not as bad.  And over the next few years, although I complained regularly, my weight remained relatively stable.

I think I started gaining weight late in 2001.  I had lost my job and hadn’t been immediately successful in finding a new one.  This led to less activity, more depression, and stress eating.  I estimate that I gained 40 pounds over two years.

In August 2003 I experienced a terrible loss.  I was hurting so bad, and I figured nothing could make me feel worse; so I decided to starve myself while I was at it.  I went to one of those ‘medical weight loss’ places.  Basically, you meet with a doctor, they tell you to eat very few calories, and they give you an appetite suppressant (phentermine).  You go back every few weeks and pay them directly for this drug.  (They don’t accept insurance, of course.)  On the shady scale, it’s only a few steps up from selling smack behind the gas station.  I lost 50 pounds in 7 months.

By the time I stopped the appetite suppressant, I had developed low-calorie habits and kept off most of the weight.  And if I needed to keep myself in check, I would jump on the pills for a week or so to help me remember that I don’t need much food.  And things stayed relatively manageable for 3 years or so.  I probably gained 5-10 pounds a year during that time.

In March 2008 I was laid off from my job and once again found myself with a lot of time on my hands.  But this time, instead of eating, I decided to try to lose some of the weight I had accumulated.  Since it worked the time before, I decided to go the same route with the ‘medical weight loss.’  And once again, I was successful.  I didn’t lose as much weight, but I was happy enough.  The key to success here was to sleep as much as possible.  I wasn’t working, and I figured the more time I slept, the less time I could spend eating.  Oh, it sounds funny, but it is absolutely true.  I could sleep through breakfast and lunch and have a small dinner thanks to the appetite suppressant.

And here we are now.  Since that last success I’ve gained at least 60 pounds.  And it might as well be tattooed on my forehead.  In fact, in one of my first meetings with my oncologist, I told him, “if I have to have cancer, I better at least lose weight!”

Of course, that hasn’t worked either.  The prednisone has made me retain water, gain even more weight, and display it in my face and belly for the whole world to see.  It’s so screwed up that I’ve even dropped a pants size while the upper half of me grew.

And with a serious diagnosis, worrying about my weight seems a little silly.  I have bigger fish to fry.  That said, I’m not eating sticks of butter over here!  My most frequent snacks are rice cakes (35 calories each), Fudgsicles (35 calories each), and bananas.  At dinner, I eat whatever I want without considering calories.  Depriving myself of a decent dinner just doesn’t make sense.

But my weight has really started to bother me over the past week.  I ‘blame’ the whole back issue.  It’s really been bringing me down (mentally and physically).  I hope once I can start walking around – even at a snail’s pace with a shopping cart – I will feel better about myself.

Stand Back

I’m really frustrated, and I’m really upset.

First, though, I will share with you some good news.  The MRI showed no sign of cancer on my spine.  It also showed no fractures (which was a concern because of the long-term, high-dose steroids).  I was very relieved.  And then I was frustrated.

The call from my oncologist woke me from a nap.  I know exactly what he said, but I didn’t have my wherewithal to compose educated questions.  His instruction was to continue to manage the pain with the prescription and over-the-counter drugs I have.  When I asked what else I can do, he said he could refer to an orthopedist or chiropractor.   It was past 4:30 pm when I was ready to ask my fully lucid questions, so now I have to wait until Monday.  Here is what’s rattling around in my brain:

He commented on my spine but not the discs.  Does that mean he only looked at the bones?  Or does that mean he thought everything looked fine?  Of course, that’s not his field of expertise, but wouldn’t the radiologist have noted any abnormalities?  And if everything really looked fine and this is completely muscular, what in the world is going on?

I spent the better part of autumn knowing something was wrong and being told I was fine.  I’m so upset because I don’t want to go through that again.

I know how injured, pulled muscles feel.  I know what it feels like when you’ve coughed for weeks on end and have sore muscles in your back.  This is different.  Something is wrong that I can’t stand for more than a couple of minutes.  I’m not making it up.  I’m not imagining it.  I’m in pain, and I need someone to figure it out and not blow me off!

Cancer was already turning my life on end, but now I can’t even go anywhere unless I can make it from the car to a seated position in less than five minutes.  No shopping in small stores, no walking around a bookstore, no casual strolls.  Even at home, by the time I use the bathroom and refill my glass of water, I need to sit down.  It is so incredibly depressing.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mop off my keyboard and hug my bunny.

Brain Trust

I’ve never had the desire to create a ‘bucket list,’ things that you want to do before you die.  And my current predicament hasn’t changed that.  What I have noted, however, are the things I’m glad I didn’t do!  Here are a few examples:

I’m glad I didn’t take the exam for project management certification.  I completed all the other requirements but never took the test.  I know there are thousands of people (including some not-so-bright) that have this certification.  It’s not about practical knowledge, and honestly, if you can memorize a 459-page book, you could pass the test with no experience whatsoever.  (Note that you need to document work hours before you are allowed to pay $555 to take the exam.)  My opinion aside, employers do want to see those three letters on your résumé if you are applying for such a role.  But now I’m very glad I didn’t spend hours upon hours of my life stressing over three letters.

I’m glad I didn’t change companies when I last considered it.  In 2010 I reached a point in my job where I had achieved what I set out to do, and I was ready for a new challenge.  Without a clear career path available, I decided to pursue all my options – including another organization.  After a lot of soul-searching, I decided to stay where I am.  I was able to blaze my own path and helped prove the need for a new role within the organization.  The position has not only benefited the company – it has provided me a lot of professional satisfaction.  The reason I’m glad I stayed, however, has to do with the close friendships I have with some of my colleagues.

I’m glad I didn’t take on additional debt in 2011.  I was mere minutes away from renovating my kitchen – cabinets, countertop, and appliances.  My plan was to leverage a ‘no interest’ deal and pay it off with my 2011 tax refund.  Even though it would have been a good investment in my home, I’m glad I will have that money available to pay other bills.

At first glance it looks like this was all good luck.  But that’s not it at all.  My brain has been watching out for me all along.

I didn’t take that exam because I knew that the stress wouldn’t outweigh the benefit, at least not at that point in my life.  I also knew that the exam would be waiting for me, if and when I was ready to take it.

I didn’t change companies because I was able to place value in the intrinsic, non-monetary benefits of my existing organization.  These things, along with a respectable fear of change, outweighed the leap in salary and excitement of something different that awaited me elsewhere.

And finally, I didn’t invest money in the kitchen because it would have been too much of a financial strain.  I wasn’t comfortable spending a lot of money I didn’t have – even if I knew it was coming in the tax refund.

I guess the lesson here is to trust your instincts, even when all arguments point in the other direction.  At the end of the day, you know what’s best for yourself.  We can’t build our lives by someone else’s blueprints.

Material Girl

If you found out you were very sick, and you could have one wish, what would it be? Let’s take intangible things like ‘happiness’ and ‘a cure for my illness’ off the table. It’s time to be materialistic. What do you really want?

Saturday marked two months since my diagnosis. Yes, it’s already been two months. And yes, it’s only been two months! (I thought I’d acknowledge both sides of that coin.)

Anyway, this question, ‘if I could have one wish…,’ is something I’ve tried to answer on more than one occasion. I would sit and think for a moment, and then I would let it go. I decided that if my answer wasn’t natural and immediate, it wasn’t the right one.

But the intangible requests come naturally, don’t they? I want all the people and animals I love to be happy and healthy. I want my animals to have the life expectancy of humans. I want enough money so I will never worry about it again. I want every domestic animal to have a home and feel loved.

These things, mere daydreams, roll off our tongue so easily. Is it because we spend so much time in ‘what if’ land? Are we all closet idealists? Instead, I think it is that we rarely focus on the big things that can make us happy. We get so caught up in our day-to-day routines that the only out-of-the-box thinking we allow ourselves are the daydreams. The intangibles. Things for which we can’t hold ourselves accountable.

It’s subconscious, of course, and it satisfies a few emotional needs. First, it allows a momentary euphoria as you imagine your ideal circumstance. Second, because it’s intangible or incredibly massive, there is no path for one person to achieve it. You’re off the hook for taking any action, and that means there is no risk of failure. And third, you get to have a mini pity party for yourself when you accept the fact that it is only a dream, and you cannot see it to fruition.

Euphoria, relief, self-pity: it’s a cycle we complete in mere seconds, allowing us to return to our adequate and risk-adverse lives. And that’s perfectly okay; we need those daydreams. They are humbling and can inspire us to make a contribution towards a cause greater than ourselves.

As for me?  This weekend I answered my question: I need my mom closer to me.  That means we need to sell one property and buy another.  I only wish it could be as easy as it sounds!

Afoot!

Finances have been weighing heavily on my mind this week.  So naturally the topic has come up in conversation with two of my closest friends.  I’m trying to balance my usual expenses, medical bills, and a partial salary.  I know my case isn’t unique; it comes with the territory when you have a serious illness.  But I swear, when I figured out how much house I could afford, I didn’t factor lung cancer into the equation.

Anyway, as it turns out, my venting has actually forced my friends to tell me about an event they are planning on my behalf.  (Sorry guys, I swear I don’t try to be difficult.)  When I know more, I’ll share the details here.

And to my friends and colleagues: thank you.  I’m very fortunate to have such thoughtful people in my life!

Vroom

I have so much on my mind.  Kinda like an old gumball machine.  Remember how they would get jammed because there were so many gumballs trying to escape at once?

I had a follow-up appointment with my oncologist.  We are decreasing the prednisone to 10mg and stopping the Lasix.  We also discussed some changes I’ve experienced over the past two weeks:

1. Return of the cough.  (It’s not nearly as bad as it was fresh out of the hospital.)
2. New back pain.

My lower back started aching in mid-December when I would stand or walk for a long period of time.  I’ve been quite inactive, though, so I figured this was just a case of atrophy.  At my last appointment, my doctor and I discussed it, and he felt it was likely another undesired side effect of long-term steroid usage.

Unfortunately, the length of time that I am able to stand or walk without excruciating pain has shortened.  Now I have about 3-5 minutes on the clock before I turn into a pumpkin.  And by ‘pumpkin’ I mean doubled over and tearing up in the middle of Family Dollar.  Oh yeah, it was lovely.

So in addition to the medication adjustment, my doctor ordered an MRI of my lower and middle back.  He doesn’t think it’s specifically related to my lungs, so we’ll see what the scan shows (if anything).  My guess is that it’s a bizarre side effect of the Xalkori.  It’s not one that was documented during the clinical trial; however, it is possible that not all side effects were present among the small population of 255.

Until we figure out that mystery and while I’m not breathing so well, you may see me flying around retail stores on their motor scooters.  The whole thing has been a bit embarrassing, especially when said scooters aren’t easily accessible.  At BJ’s Wholesale Club, it took 10+ minutes to get the right key from customer service.

The looks from strangers are humorous or irritating, depending on my mood.  They are frequently What’s wrong with you? and sometimes Should you be on that thing?  The best ones, though, are when I get off the scooter to look for a particular item.  The fact that I can stand seems to dismay some people.  I suppose it’s all par for the motor scooter course.

Stay tuned for updates on the MRI.  I doubt there will be anything to ‘see’ and instead expect that this has something to do with all the magic potions I’ve been taking.

I’ll also work on the gumball machine, and we’ll see what drops out for the next post!

Happy Birthday, Blossom!

Blossom at 3 months

Today is Blossom’s 6th birthday.  Please join me in celebrating the birth of my very special little girl!

Lung Lost Love

The American Cancer Society has published their 2011 estimates of new cancers cases and deaths.

New Cases
Prostate and breast cancers top the list with the highest number of new cases for men and women, respectively.  Fortunately, a routine physical often leads to early detection, and early detection leads to a very high survival rate.  For example, the 5-year survival rate for stage IIa breast cancer is 81%.  The survival rate for local prostate cancer (similar to stage I and II) is 100%.

Deaths
Lung cancer tops the list with the highest number of deaths for both men and women.  In fact, it kills nearly the same amount of people as colon, breast, pancreatic, and prostate cancers combined.  In my opinion, the problem is two-fold.  First, there is no approved process for early detection of lung cancer (i.e. colonoscopy, mammogram, self-exam).  You and your doctor certainly can’t palpate your lungs to feel for lumps and changes!  As such, diagnosis is often made after the patient is symptomatic (like coughing up blood) in late stages.  The 5-year survival rates for stages IIIa, IIIb, and IV are 14%, 5%, and 1%, respectively.

The other problem is effective treatment.  Even when lung cancer is caught early, the prognosis isn’t stellar.  Compared with the breast cancer statistic above (81%), the stage IIa non-small cell lung cancer survival rate is only 30%.

So let’s look at the story of breast cancer.  First, it’s the most successfully marketed disease of all time.  From inception through 2010, Susan G. Komen for the Cure raised $1.5 billion.  A whopping $540 million went to research alone.  And this is only one (albeit the largest) of several dedicated organizations.  In addition, the US government invested more than $631 million in breast cancer research in 2010 alone.  Prostate cancer was the next highest funded ($300 million) and lung cancer the third ($282 million).

My goal isn’t to fight some sort of ‘cancer injustice.’  After all, discoveries made in one area of research sometimes benefit others.  But I do think lung cancer needs a better PR firm.  It is under-funded and under-researched.

Perhaps that’s due to the smoking stigma.  Most people assume that you get lung cancer because you smoke.  The truth is that smoking can cause several types of cancer in the body’s organs and makes you more susceptible to every type cancer.  But if someone told you they had pancreatic cancer, you wouldn’t ask them if they were a smoker, would you?

And finally, lungs just aren’t sexy.  Breasts, on the other hand, have always been popular.  It should be no surprise that they get plenty of attention in their time of need!  Maybe someday we’ll see professional athletes wearing gear to support lung cancer.

Oh, one more thing for this rant: Can we get a new color?  Lung cancer is currently represented with a clear or white or pearl-colored ribbon.  I have a proposal, though.  The new ribbon for lung cancer should be the jolly roger flag: black with skulls and crossbones.  Now THAT would increase awareness!