A taste for more "adventure"

So what happens when Lisa finishes radiation treatment and moves on with the rest of her life?

She slips in her kitchen (cleaning up after her semi-incontinent dog), smacks the back of her head against the kitchen table on the way down, and starts to bleed profusely. Off she goes to the ER for a fun late night adventure of pressure bandaging, cat scanning, X-raying, and a stitch to finish off the fun. The doctor (who fancied himself Cumberland's very own Jay Leno) decided to use a bandaging strategy which made me look like a cross between a bank robber and a Snow Baby.

So here I am...with enough blood left in my hair to stand the back up like a ghoulish Kate Gosselin....waiting until tomorrow (!) to wash the whole thing away...

I am okay...sore, embarrassed, cranky...relieved I don't have a concussion or a brain bleed.

What did I do to deserve 2009, I ask you?

Cancer wisdom from my friend Bryan

My cancer scare changed my life. I'm grateful for every new, healthy day I have. Olivia Newton John
So true...but I'd like to look like Olivia as my reward. Jeff seconds the motion.

My veins are filled with carpet cleaner once a week, and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and I am mean to cats. Life is good.
John Cheever
I didn't do chemo, but I love this quote. This one's for you, Renee Kiddy (not the cats part!).

When the Japanese mend broken objects they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe when something has suffered damage and continues on, it becomes more beautiful.
Barbara Bloom
This one made me cry.

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.
Herm Albright
Sounds like the Democrats need this one.

Treatment ends....future begins

I have run the race...and now I get a little rest.

Radiation is done.

No more hanging out with strangers five days a week!

Two more

Two more treatments....

My breast hurts most of the time now--intermittent stabbing pains and then dull pain like a toothache. There is swelling, but the skin has calmed down.

I can't imagine having this done to my head or my abdomen like the people I sit with.

I saw a new lady in the waiting room this week. She's probably my age...hair growing in from chemo baldness...so weak she can barely stand up from her wheelchair. Today she was wheeled in and parked by a man who left, and she stared vacantly at the giant aquarium while she waited. Her daughter came later and talked to her in a loud, sing-song voice. The daughter told her mother to "say thank you" as they were leaving as if her mom were a four year old. The poor woman. What is she dealing with, I wonder?

I come and go into these treatments like Hurricane Lisa. The doctor told me today I walk like I'm in a rush to get somewhere (as I nearly collided with a nurse in the hallway).

What's the rush? I running toward a simpler place, with no doctors or machines for a blessed few weeks...months....

#30

I have passed the big-30...3 more to go. Can I tell you how ready I am to be done?

My skin is looking a little worse....c'mon Thursday! I'm almost there.

The Boost

So, today is the beginning of what I hope is the end of the Big C. "The Boost" has begun.

I have seven more radiation treatments directly into the area where the cancer started, and then we see if my cancer adventure ends...or takes a holiday. I hear so many stories of both outcomes.

I will not miss the constant fatigue and borderline discomfort...but I may miss the excuse of "I'm in treatment" to explain why I'm distracted or lethargic or cranky. Starting next week, I'm just Lisa....recovered (?).

Will I ever be the same? No. I will never live a day without the nagging doubts, but I won't take life and health for granted again. I have flirted with the boundaries of my own mortality, and I know I want to stay on this side of the fence. Let's hope I can cobble together a heathier way forward.

This has been a sad, sorry summer with some glimpses of grace.

I could use a boost and it's not the radiation kind!

Happy Days

Cancer treatment takes time...and I'm lucky to be one of the relative short-timers.

I'm happy to say today is a small milestone--treatment #25, 8 more to go. So I'll be passing the 3/4 mark. Today ends whole breast radiation and we head into "the boost" starting next Tuesday. The boost involves 8 treatments of radiation directly into my scar, in the area where the cancer actually happened. Can I tell you the weirdness of having four people drawing all over one's exposed breast with green magic markers, plotting their attack plans...

My doctor says my skin has come through very well, considering I'm about as fair and sunburn-prone as one can be. I'm really tired this week--combine radiation with "that time of the month" and you get Lisa...loopier than usual. I went to bed at eight-something last night.

We are celebrating Dan Stack's wedding festivities this weekend. I will nap....then party...then nap!