Hair!

Ever since I had to shave my head in late August because the chemo was causing my hair to fall out, I felt like I looked like a witch. It finally occurred to me why I thought this. It all stemmed from my favorite childhood television show, Sesame Street. I recalled a little sketch that I'd seen probably about a thousand times between the ages of two and ten (I have two younger siblings), when Sesame Street was "brought to me by the letter W" about a witch named Wanda who takes off her wig to show a spiky bald head. Well, having what some people call "Google-heimers", which is when you think of something you want to look up on the internet and then forget what it was by the time you get to a computer, it took me until now to find the clip. Here it is for you - the reason I felt like a bald witch:

A lot of people have asked, so I assume that a lot more are curious. They want to know, when you lose your hair on your head, do you lose your hair everywhere? The answer is yes and no. I can't speak for everyone, but personally, I lost hair everywhere - yes, everywhere - except for my arms. Don't ask me why the hair on my arms did not fall off, but it didn't. Eyebrows, eyelashes, legs, armpits - gone. Best. Brazilian. Ever.

It is starting to grow back ever so slowly. For the past month and a half or so the hair on my head has been growing in. It is a super-fine, downy-soft fuzz that the chemo nurses tell me is just the beginning of new hair growth. The really toxic chemo I had in my first round which made the hair fall out in the first place has worn off and since the second round chemo isn't as toxic as the first, it has started coming back in. Once I finish chemo completely - one more appointment- then real hair - not just feathery-soft stuff - will start to come in.

The unfortunate part of my re-growth is that my hair is coming in totally gray. I have had to color my grays for years and in that time I have said that I would bet that if I stopped dying my hair it would be totally gray, and guess what? I was right! If there is any dark hair left, it is all in the back. What I can see when I look in the mirror is gray and right around my face - totally white. Thanks to my late Nonna Carmela for passing on that gene! Take a look:

It's so fine, that it's hard to see:

Here's a closer look:

And an even closer look:

So, it looks like I'll be wearing my wig for a while yet. Unless this gray hair looks totally stylin', which I seriously doubt it will, I'll have to wait until it's long enough to color again. Will it be three different shades of brown since it's white in the front, gray in the middle and dark in back? Time will have to tell. In the meantime, I'll keep you posted of the return of hair!

The Twelve Days of Chemo

In honor of the holiday season and my last chemo treatment next week on December 29th, I've written a little spoof:

On the twelfth day of treatment, my chemo gave to me,

Twelve days of nausea,

Eleven missing tastebuds,

Ten toes a'numbing,

Nine Benadryl naps,

Eight veins a'hiding,

Seven food aversions,

Six days of recoop,

Five minute showers,

Four hour visits,

Three eyelashes,

Two missing eyebrows,

And one fuzz-covered, bald head!

Happy Holidays!

A Brand New Set of Girls and a Poll

This morning Beni and I went to meet my plastic surgeon, Dr. Sigalove. First impression - he is super cute! : ) I'm sure Beni would have given me a hard time about choosing him if it wasn't that he had been recommended to me by my oncologist and breast surgeon. The fact that he is adorable is just a perk. More importantly, he is a talented surgeon and head of his department at CDH, who will create, for me, a new set of "girls."

Here is how he described the process: After my last chemo on Dec. 29th, I will probably wait about 4 weeks until my blood counts are back to normal before having surgery done. Then, my breast surgeon, Dr. Fredrickson, will remove the tumor and breast tissue. I am fairly certain I will have a double mastectomy. An MRI and biopsies showed I have several benign fatty tumors in my left breast and I wouldn't want those to hide any new cancerous growths in the future, and since reconstruction is covered by insurance in my case, I am opting to have a brand new set of breasts. After Dr. F is done removing the breasts and the cancer, Dr. Sigalove will go in and insert inflatable "spacers". These will be filled weekly in his office until they are the desired size. They stretch the skin that will be left on my chest to make room for permanent implants that will be inserted much later, after radiation is complete. After surgery, I will have drainage tubes for two weeks. This grosses me out a little, but I'll get over it.

For this surgery I can expect a one to two night hospital stay. Then I will stay at home to recuperate for at least two weeks, maybe more. I will go to get the spacers filled weekly and once they are filled to the desired size, then I begin my radiation treatments. At this point I have been told they will be daily for 6 1/2 weeks. Dr. S said that he will not do the second reconstructive surgery until 3 to 6 months after radiation has ended because the skin in the radiated area will need time to heal and get back to normal. So we are looking at not being finished with the process until at least August.

If the radiated area looks good and has healed properly, then Dr. S will go in through the bottom of the breast, make an incision, remove the spacers and insert a permanent, and perky, implant. If the skin is not as desired, they will pull skin from my back, under and past my armpit, and create a new breast with that. He also talked to us about a procedure where fat from my belly (liposuction) could be used to make the breast more natural-looking. Hey, if the insurance would still cover it, I am all about getting rid of some belly fat!

Dr. S really seemed to know what he was talking about. I probably won't see him again until the surgery itself. I feel comfortable with him and know that he has already worked with my other two doctors and that they trust him.

The idea of losing my real breasts doesn't really bother me since they have served their purpose and I know that I will get new ones. What does make me nervous is the idea of surgery. Not the surgery itself, per se, but the recovery. What seems to be making me the most nervous is the idea of waking up after and having ugly scars on my chest and tubes sticking out and feeling out-of-it and sore. I know that will only be temporary, but it is what scares me most.

The other decision I have to make is whether or not I want reconstructed nipples. Here is my dilemma: I work hard to make sure no one can see my nipples. I find it embarrassing. I don't want the world to know when I am cold or otherwise aroused. I purposely buy bras that make sure my headlights are concealed. The idea of having my breast reconstructed without nipples is intriguing to me. I could wear a tank top or strapless dress in the summer without a bra and no one would be the wiser! I'd have perky new boobs (at least for a while), so why not take advantage? Since reconstructed breasts are pretty much numb anyway, what purpose does a fake nipple serve? I am very curious to hear your opinions. Feel free to post and give me the pros and cons, especially those who may have had reconstruction, but everyone's ideas are welcome.

Don't Call It a Comeback

It's been a while. I apologize to those of you who were following my blog regularly for updates and have had to wait a whole month and a half between entries. I got lazy. Plus, there really wasn't a whole lot to say. I worked all week, came home tired, had papers to grade (which I still do - that seems to be one of the constant things I can depend on in my life), and then on Saturdays I'd sleep most of the day away and have to catch up on stuff on Sunday. That didn't leave me a whole lot of time for blogging.

For the most part, I really can't complain about the side effects of chemo. The first round left me nauseated and even though I had started round two, I think the effects of round one were still with me for a while. I would wake up on Saturday mornings, late, and then want to do nothing but lay around and sleep some more. I was exhausted and couldn't focus enough to read a book or grade papers. Top that off with no appetite and an inability to keep meals down when I did eat them and that is pretty much how my weekends were.

Now, fortunately, I have gotten over that hump and am not as tired on Saturdays and my appetite and ability to keep food down is back to normal! Yay! Some other good news is that my hair is starting to grow back in. Right now it is just a layer of downy-like fuzz but it is there nonetheless. Once I am done with chemo treatments in three more weeks, my hair should start to grow back for real. Sadly, I believe it is coming in all gray which is a total bummer. This leads me to wonder if I will go back to coloring it, or use this as an excuse to say life is too short to worry about coloring my hair every few weeks. I'll have to play it by ear and see how it looks. I feel 42 is way too young to be gray! But, who knows, maybe I'll rock it.

This Thursday I meet with a plastic surgeon to discuss my reconstruction options. According to his receptionist, he won't even start the process until after I am done with radiation, so that may not be until summer. I'll post again after I've learned more from him.

December 29th will be my last true chemo appointment. After that date I will have to go to the infusion center once every three weeks for Herceptin until late August. It only takes half an hour to administer that IV (unlike my 4 and sometimes 5 hour chemo visits) and there are no side-effects from it, so that should be smooth sailing and I won't have to take 1/2 days off of work anymore.

On Jan. 12th I meet with my breast surgeon and we will discuss surgery. Prior to this I will have an MRI so that we can see how small the tumor has shrunk. We do know that it has shrunken but an MRI will tell us exactly how much. I am guessing surgery will happen in late January or early February. I will have to take a couple of weeks off of work and then should be ready to go back. After surgery, I will do 6 1/2 weeks of daily radiation treatments. By the time the school year is over, I should have some hair (I'm hoping at least a pixie cut) and will only have to worry about my every three week Herceptin treatments.

I'm getting there! According to my oncologist everything is going as planned. The tumor is shrinking and I haven't had any really bad side-effects. If I can just get my veins to cooperate for the last three chemo treatments I will be all good. I have never had the kind of veins in my hands that stick out, but in the beginning, they were visible. As chemo has proceeded, they have disappeared. They are hiding way down deep under my skin, not wanting to be poked or prodded. It makes it really difficult for the chemo nurses to insert my IV when I go in. There is one nurse, Gwen, that I like to call "The Vein Whisperer" because no matter what, she always finds a good one. It's funny, but now, I notice people's veins and think to myself, "Ooh, he/she has great veins! The nurses would like him/her!"

That's all for now. I have only one more week of work before Winter Break, so I will have more blogging opportunities soon. I'll post again soon.

'Tis The Season

With Halloween right around the corner, what better time of year to need a blood transfusion!

Every time I go to chemo, I get weighed, and have my temp, oxygen and blood pressure checked. Then a nurse comes in and injects the IV and draws some blood. The blood goes to the lab where they check to make sure my levels are safe for me to get the chemo treatment. Last Thursday, my hemoglobin level was low but safe enough for me to still get treatment. The nurse contacted the doctor who thought it was low enough that I should a blood transfusion so that my levels would be boosted enough to be safe the following week. I do as I am told, so I took the day off on Friday and headed to Central DuPage Hospital for the day.

Interestingly, the entire experience was not that much different than a chemo treatment. I went in and sat in a recliner. A nurse took my temp. and blood pressure and inserted an IV into my arm. An order was placed for my A + blood and I waited a little while and then when the blood arrived, the nurse hooked me up. Much like chemo, there was no strange feeling when some stranger's processed hemoglobin began its trek through my veins. I graded some papers, read some of my book, surfed the internet, watched t.v., ate a hospital lunch and even tried to take a little snooze. Six hours later, I drove myself home. No big whoop.

It seems strange that I wouldn't feel any different. I had just had a transplant for God's sake! Shouldn't I feel something? I was hoping the new blood that hadn't given me any ill side-effects would give me a burst of energy, but sadly, my Saturday was much like the others - spent feeling weak and very tired and sleeping a lot. Luckily, Sundays are better and so far I am feeling able to go back to work on Mondays.

I want to give a special thank you to any and all of you who have ever donated blood. It is thanks to you that I was able to be given this gift to help me feel better. I am unsure if I will need another transfusion in the future. Right now I am in between treatments 2 and 3 out of 12, so I can only guess that in 8 more treatments my blood counts may be low again. If need be, I'll do what I have to do. Just rest assured that the process was painless, I had no side-effects and I feel relieved knowing the safe-guards that are in place to check for diseases these days. On top of that, the blood I received was hemoglobin only, which causes it to be even further processed, which somehow makes me feel safer.

A special thanks to my unknown donor, without whom my hemoglobin would still be a 7.9 instead of a normal 22.0. Also, a special thanks to all of the nurses with whom I have been in contact since this ordeal began. I have always had the utmost respect for nurses since the births of my children, but to stay positive in a cancer ward and with people who need life-saving treatment is tremendous! Their happiness and positivity is contagious and you can't help but feel upbeat when you are around them. Thanks ladies.

Is Cancer the New Black? I Think Not!

Today I brought my laptop with me to chemo because I knew I didn't have many papers to grade and I'd be bored. While I was "in the chair" I had the idea to take a picture of myself "in the chair" so that when I talk about what it's like, you can have an idea of what I look like. Here is one of me and my lovely Herceptin drip:

Here is another of me, just so happy to be there:

On with the blog . . . So, the first step when sitting "in the chair" is getting blood drawn and checked so that the nurses can be sure your body can handle the chemo. The chemo doesn't even get mixed until the okay comes back from the lab. Today, my lab report showed that my hemoglobin was very low and that I am anemic (a common side-effect of chemo). Not low enough that they couldn't give me my treatment, but low enough that the doctor recommended that I get a blood transfusion. So, tomorrow at ten, I will take yet another unexpected day off of work and go to Central DuPage Hospital and spend six hours in a chair receiving some kind donor's blood. The idea is a little bizarre and scary, but I gotta do what I gotta do. The good news is that with healthy blood flowing through my veins I will be less anemic and have more energy. Maybe I won't spend this Saturday napping the day away.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but it is only the 20th and I feel like calling it Cancer Ad Nauseum Month. Cancer is everywhere. It seems no matter what I am watching on t.v., every commercial break has a commercial for either the American Cancer Society or the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. Is it just me getting that feeling? Is it like when you buy a new car and you notice a bijillion cars just like the one you bought on the road or does anyone else feel inundated with cancer talk? I understand the message about early detection and all, but sheesh!

I think I am well into the angry stage. I'm done with the sad, why me? stage. Now I am getting ticked off with stories of people who have easier journies than me. For example, a very nice co-worker that I have known for years, stopped me in the hall the other day and asked how I was doing. He told me his wife was a survivor. She had either a lump or mastectomy (not sure) and then 5 radiation treatments and was done. I was a little miffed - especially since she was diagnosed Stage III like me. I am having 20 chemos more than her AND four times as many radiation treatments after my surgery. What the heck? I know everyone is different, but it is annoying to hear.

I think it was the same night that I came home to hear on the news that Giuliana Rancic, the golden girl of the E! Network, was also diagnosed with breast cancer. Momentarily, I felt a sisterhood, especially when I saw a short clip of her breaking down in an interview. I never saw the full story on the news, so I googled her the next morning. First of all, she is having lumpectomies only (though she has tumors in both breasts) and then only has to undergo radiation. No hair loss for Giuliana. The sisterhood has been broken. I no longer feel I can relate to her. Done and done.

I know I said in an earlier post that I do not wish this experience on anyone, even my worst enemy, and I don't, but I can't help but be jealous of these celebrities who get diagnosed and are given oodles of attention and never even loose an eyebrow, like Christina Applegate and Sonia Vegara. They will go on to give dramatic tales of their journies and everyone will ooh and aah and shed their tears, when really those celebs are only really experiencing 1/4 of what some of us are having to go through.

I hate to be bitter, but at the same time, I think I've earned it. I am staying positive for the most part, but once in a while, when you have no hair, you feel nauseated like a first trimester pregnant woman, and your heartbeat pounds in your head when you climb a flight of stairs, you just can't help it.

Ding Ding - Round 2

Today, I began the second round of chemotherapy. It is the first of 12 weekly treatments, so if you count my previous four treatments, I am one quarter of the way done. Woo hoo.

This round is less toxic and I no longer have the chemical that upset my sinuses. The only down side of the treatment itself was the length of time I was there - 9:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Quite a stretch, though next time it shouldn't take so long. One drug I am being given is Taxol, which can cause bone achiness and tingly, numb extremities. I will also feel more tired with this drug. This is what I will be watching out for. Hopefully, the side-effects will take their time in coming, like the first round, if they show up at all. Let's all hope for the latter. The second treatment I'm getting is Herceptin which is side-effect free. After the 12 weeks of Taxol, I will continue to get Herceptin for a year. In that time my hair will grow back! Yay! Something to look forward to.

Sitting in the chair was fine, though I had been dreading it since my nausea following the last treatment. It was a good day. I dropped the boys off at school at 9 and went to my appt. Got comfy in the chair. Graded 1st hour's Beowulf essays and started on 7th hour. I took a break to eat lunch - which was free thanks to the hospital. Had a nice chicken salad sandwich and a Ceasar salad from Atlanta Bread Co. and watched some HGTV for a while. My nurse was the 4th Laura (the only one I hadn't had so far). There are four of them working there and every time I get one of the Lauras I can't help but think this is God's way of reminding me my sister Laura would be there with me if she could be. When treatment was over, I was able to make it just in time to pick up the boys after grabbing a McDonald's Sweet Tea.

So, obviously all of your prayers are working for me and I am so, so, so appreciative, but I want to ask you for one more. Yesterday, I found out that my mom had an accident at work and fell and broke her leg. It's a pretty bad break, in her femur, near her hip. She is having surgery this afternoon to add a metal rod and pins for stability. She will be in the hospital for a few days and then rehab of some sort. Being 1) far away and 2) unable to be there even if I wanted to go, makes me feel helpless, so asking you all for your prayers is the least I can do for her. She will appreciate a fast-lane ride to recovery as well. Thanks.

One day at a time.

Fran

Feeling better

Just a quick update to let you know that I am feeling FAR better in comparison to Monday and Tuesday this week. As a matter of fact, I felt well enough to go to a movie with a friend last night to see The Help, and today Beni and I took the boys to the church carnival for about an hour. Just running little errands makes me tired, but at least I am getting out there and doing them. Tomorrow, since we all have the day off, I am hoping to get my glasses repaired at LensCrafters and maybe get an eye exam for Frankie.

A new and unwelcome side effect that has made its way into my life - mouth sores. I've had them before here and there, but these are definitely chemo mouth sores that make eating, which can seem flavorless and dull, even less enjoyable. I looked up some remedies online and mouth wash is one that I liked the results of. Here is a job for my loyal fan base: What do you do to relieve mouth sores?

A Forwarded Story: A Great Message

I usually don't repost forwarded emails or cutsie stories but this one needed to be shared. I did a little research on snopes.com and at the Washington Post, which ran the story on April 8th. It is true. Check it out if you don't believe, but the message is a good one, regardless of whether you believe the story or not. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html

THE SITUATION


In Washington , DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.

About 4 minutes later: The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At 6 minutes: A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at
his watch and started to walk again.

At 10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly.
The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to
move on quickly.

At 45 minutes: The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

After 1 hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one
applauded. There was no recognition at all.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This is a true story.

Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

This experiment raised several questions:

*In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

*If so, do we stop to appreciate it?

*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . . . . How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?

Enjoy life NOW… it has an expiration date!

I Really Hate You, Cancer!

The side-effects of chemo have been getting worse and worse. I know that by comparison, I haven't had it all that bad, but I am beginning to know what bad is. When I first started chemo, I was given a prescription for a drug to take at home when I felt nauseous. I have been taking it, but it seems to no longer work, or simply the act of swallowing the pill itself, sets off my stomach, causing me to vomit. I usually feel the worst on Monday and Tuesday following my Thursday treatments. This Monday and Tuesday I felt like I'd been hit by an 18-wheeler. I stayed home from work both days, feeling completely exhausted and nauseated.

All I could do during those days was sleep and lounge. I had no desire to eat and if/when I did, it ended up coming back up at least once a day. Just taking a shower was an ordeal from which I would have to sit down and rest when I was done. Seriously, it is the worst.

I am constantly accompanied by my trusty can of Canadra Dry Ginger Ale. She is my new best friend and sometimes the only thing I can stomach drinking. Water tastes too blah. I like the carbonation.

Last night I cried a little. I don't like having cancer, not that you are supposed to. The other night I kept tossing and turning, thinking about the meds I've taken and the ones I am yet to receive. It caused me to throw up bright and early that morning. I know I should be thankful that my first round of chemo is over and that the next round, though weekly, should be less intense (I'll believe that when I experience it) but I can't help but thinking, I still have 12 weeks of this madness to endure! Even though I know I have had my last dose, I can still feel the Citoxcin (sp) in my sinuses. I think this is a HUGE part of my nausea problem. I feel like I smell like cancer. I smell like chemicals. Beni says it's all in my head and maybe it is - literally -in my nose.

When I am having horrible days, I dread going back to the chemo chair. While I am there, it's fine, but I still can't help but feel sick about the idea of feeling sick. I am probably just one day away from feeling "normal" - I hope. But until that day comes, I feel a long way away from normal.

I know this is going to make you all feel bad and post really nice and supportive things, but I am not writing this for sympathy. Instead, go get a mammogram or a yearly physical. I do not wish this on my worst enemy (not that I have one). Cancer is endurable but it SUCKS! I really do hate you, cancer!

Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure

Today was the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in which my family and friends walked or ran to raise money to find a cure for breast cancer. It was a great morning!

My girls, Jennifer, Esther, Megan, and Sharon (and I) before the walk. Missing is Melinda who went to grab something to eat.

My family who showed up to support me: brother-in-law Sal, (me), neice Rosanna, Beni, cousin Enza, and neice Anna at the bottom with the boys. Missing is my nephew, Michael, who was lining up for the 5K run.

Frankie sporting his free New Balance stickers.

Beni and the boys doing the 5K.

Our numbers for the 5K Walk

My awesome family and I about to cross the finish line.

The girls and I at the finish line. I walked the whole 5K! Now that's what I call kickin' cancer's butt!

Below are the names of those I walked for, some who didn't win their battles, and more who did!

My role models:

Chemo Sucks

This week was an icky week. In the past, I had pretty much learned that chemo day - Thursday, was relatively side-effect free with the exception of hot flashes and a mild headache. Friday was similar, but nothing major. Saturday brought on the achiness and lethargy and Sunday followed and Monday and possibly Tuesday brought on flu-like headache, achiness and general exhaustion.

A week ago on Friday, I came home and wrote up my lesson plans for Monday and Tuesday. I figured if I needed to miss those days, I would have the plans ready to go and wouldn't have to get up early to write them. It was an easy week, anyway. I was showing a movie in 3 out of 5 classes.

Around this time I began to lose my tastebuds. Eating bland foods like Wheat Thins tastes like eating a thin, cripsy piece of cardboard. A pickle still tastes like a pickle, but unless it's something really spicy or flavorful, it all tastes kind of blah. My mouth has been getting dryer and dryer. I feel, at times, like something is pinching the back of my throat. I need to have something to drink near me at all times. Carbonated drinks seem to taste best, though I don't know why. When I wake up I feel like someone has shoved cotton in my mouth ala Marlon Brando in The Godfather.

On Saturday, I had a cold - congestion, runny nose. I took Dayquil and stayed home from my neice's Sweet Sixteen surprise party that night. I felt pretty miserable.

On Sunday, I just lounged around, reading and resting. Beni busted his butt cooking two meals for the week. Maybe three. Having rested all day, I felt a lot better by Sunday night, so I thought I'd see how I felt in the morning before deciding to call in sick on Monday.

Monday morning, I felt okay. I knew I'd have an easy day of movie-watching and reading with my other classes, so I sucked it up and went to work. I was tired all day and had a little nausea head ache all day, but it was okay. I came home and napped and warmed up the Italian wedding soup for dinner that Beni had made the day before. We ate dinner and on my second bowl of soup, the nausea suddenly kicked in again and BAM! Run to bathroom. No more soup in my belly.

After that I decided I had over-done for a Monday. I took the day off Tuesday. I ate toast and drank tea and slept a lot. I ate chicken soup for dinner. My fear of looking at the boys' dinner made me ruin that, as well. It was pasta with fava beans that my in-laws had prepared and frozen the sauce for and I had to literally almost close my eyes as I transferred the sauce to the pan to warm in up, for fear of losing my toast. According to the boys, dinner didn't taste so good.

I do have pills for nausea, but they make me sleepy, so I don't like to take them at work or when I have to drive.

Wednesday I went back to work. It was another easy day of standardized testing all day long. Lots of sitting for me. I still felt a little iffy about food, so ate toast for breakfast and chicken soup for lunch. Was a little nervous about the smells of other people's lunches in the lunch room, but everything turned out okay.

As the week continued, the nausea dissipated. By Friday, I felt relatively normal, but the sad part is that it used to be Tuesday or Wednesday when I felt normal. My normal days are becoming fewer and farther between. I have only one more A and C chemo treatment and I dread it. The idea of that lousy, sinus feeling I get from one of the treatments makes me feel nauseated all over again. I try not to think about it.

After that treatment I start weekly visits for Taxol and Herceptin. Herceptin is side-effect free. My mom was in the clinical trial 10 years ago and raves about how great it is. Taxol is still a chemo treatment with side effects, but the nurses tell me the side effects aren't as bad. What worries me is that my treatments will be weekly and that even if there are only one or two bad days afterwards, that gives me only three "normal" days to recooperate.

I think that chemo, thought it does take a physical toll on your body, is more of a mental exhaustion. It's the thought of always looking ahead at what's to come, knowing you are going to feel icky for 12 more weeks or 18 or whatever the doctors have told you you will have to endure.

I am so glad that I have work to distract me. I can't imagine what I would do sitting at home having these thoughts constantly. My students this semester are beyond awesome! They are the sweetest, most caring and most motivated I have had in ages! I love being with them on my good days and even on my bad ones, they make me feel loved and always ask how I'm feeling.

Tomorrow is the 5K Susan G. Komen Walk. I will post some pictures of my awesome team of friends and family that are walking with me and thanks to everyone who donated funds to find a cure!

I am blessed.

Just an Update

Thanks so much to those of you who have generously donated to the Susan G. Komen Walk that I will be participating in on Sunday, Sept. 25th. My team's goal of $1,000. has been met, but my personal goal of $500. still has $130. to go. If you are interested in donating, go to the link in my last blog to do so.

Overall, I have been feeling well. I had my most recent chemo this past Thursday, with a Neulasta shot on Friday. Today is Saturday and, as usual, I woke up a little achy and took some Tylenol. Seems to be the same scenario each time. I have lesson plans and things ready at school just in case I have to take off Monday and Tuesday for flu-like symptoms that seem to arrive on days 4 and 5. Luckily, this weekend I don't have a lot of grading to do, so relaxing on my couch, watching Love and Other Drugs (which has been sitting next to the t.v. for over a month now) and Limitless, reading more of Catching Fire and Hanging with Lab Coats seems to be the order of the weekend.

Last Monday, I attended "Look Good . . . Feel Better" a class sponsored by the American Cancer Society that teaches women going through cancer how to best apply make-up while going through treatments, how to draw on eyebrows when they fall out, etc. It was fun and I got a bunch of free make-up from companies like Mary Kay, Avon, Neutragena, MAC and even Chanel! Very cool! In just talking with the other women who attended, almost all of whom were older than me, I learned that so far, my chemo symptoms have not been too bad at all. One woman wondered how I could even work through my treatments. I guess, by comparison, I have had it relatively easy.

I have one more round of my A and C chemo on Sept. 29th and then I begin weekly rounds of Taxol and Herceptin. The Herceptin is side-effect-free. Yay! The Taxol, from what the nurses have told me, shouldn't be too bad either. We'll just have to take it one day at a time and see how things go.

Not a whole lot to report, but just wanted all of my followers to know that just because you may not hear from me as often as before, it doesn't mean anything is wrong. Now that I'm in full swing at work and the boys are back in school and Beni is busy with work and football, life in the Manzella house is hectic. We are all doing well. Like my mom always says, "No news is good news."

Please Donate Today

One of my very best friends, Jennifer Archer, who has been researching online since the moment I breathed the word "cancer" has organized a team for me called "Friends for Francesca" for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Lombard, Illinois on Sunday, September 25th. I am flattered and honored that so far, Jennifer, my other besties, Megan and Sharon, two co-workers and friends, Esther and Melinda, and my brother-in-law, Sal, and neices, Anna and Rosanna are all going to be walking along side me. I've already looked at the calendar, and that weekend should be one of my "good" weekends, a whole week after a chemo treatment, so I plan to walk with my friends and family. If I can do this, so can you!

My friends, family and co-workers have all been so supportive and so I want them to be rewarded in this endeavor. We are walking and raising money to find a cure for this disgusting and life-threatening disease. The team's goal is $1,000. We are currently at $501. I signed up today and pledged the remaining $500. Beni also signed up and pledged $150. If you are local and chose to walk with us, you will donate $35.00 just by registering. If you live far away and would like to help, please make a donation. It doesn't have to be a big monetary sum. Every little bit counts! This is a great way for you far-away supporters to help!

Cut and paste this address and go to the site to join our team or make a donation:

http://chicagoland.info-komen.org/site/TR/Eventspx=10633289&pg=personal&fr_id=2251&s_subsrc=bfgetwordout&s_src=boundlessfundraising

Thanks in advance for your support! Lots of love to all of you!

God, I work in a great place

Today, I left my school building overcome with tears of emotion. I work in a school building that often gets a bad rep. It's in a low-income area, we have low test scores and gangs. So far this semester I have quickly fallen in love with the new students in my classes. They have been supportive and sweet in learning about and dealing with my cancer. I am blessed to work with such great kids.

This afternoon, as I was packing my things to go home, I noticed a girl in the hallway outside my room. She looked familiar, but I couldn't recall her name (not unusual from year to year, for me anyway). Finally, she came in and said, "I don't know if you remember me, but I was in your study hall last year. I heard that you have cancer. I'm a Christian and I was wondering if I could pray for you."

I told her I did remember her. I did, after all, recognize her, though I may not have remembered her name. I told her I welcome any prayers anyone wants to pray for me. She asked if I would mind if she prayed with me right then and there. I closed the classroom door and we stood to the side of my classroom, and this sweet, little Latina girl prayed the most heartfelt and emotion-filled prayer to God, asking to look over me and heal me. I was moved to tears and when she was finished I gave her a big hug and thanked her.

THAT is why I work at East Aurora High School. One kid in one study hall cared enough about me to come and say a prayer for me. At East High our students may not get the best grades or highest ACT scores, but, damn it, they have the biggest hearts in the world! I may not like decisions that are handed down to us from the central office and I may not agree with the Board of Education, but the kids who come through our doors are some of the best kids anyone one in the field of education could ask for. I LOVE my students!

Reality Sets In

Despite having a shaved head and wearing a wig, feeling icky and tired, I sometimes don't feel like a cancer patient. That all changed last night.

We spent the day at my sister-in-law's house for a Labor Day BBQ. It was a nice time with lots of friends and family and way too much food as always. We arrived around 2:30 and left at about 7:00. Luckily, we left the boys to spend the night at my mother-and-father-in-law's house because they had a teacher inservice day Tuesday and no school. My intention was to work a half day on Tuesday and then go to my first oncologist appt. at 12:30. My in-laws would drop off the boys after I came home.

Before we even left, I was feeling chilled and was sitting on the couch with a blanket over me, but I thought it was because after two near 100 days, the upper 60 temps were just a little tough to take. In the car, I started feeling more chilled like I had a fever. Getting out of the car, I started shivering and couldn't stop. I went straight upstairs and put on long pajamas and a robe and curled up on the couch with a blanket to type out lesson plans for my half day sub. Once that was done, I took a couple of Tylenol and just lay and watched The Kardashians until about 9:30 when I went up to bed. Having been too lazy to get the thermometer from upstairs sooner, I took my temperature. It was a whopping 103! There is a rule when you are undergoing chemo - if your temperature goes above 100.5, you have to call the doctor. So, I did.

While I waited for the answering service to deliver my message and for the doctor to return my call, I typed a full-day lesson plan knowing that if I had to go in to the ER, it would be a late night and if I was still running a temp, I wouldn't feel much like going in to work tomorrow. I sent that off, heard back from the doctor and Beni and I got dressed and were off to CDH ER at 10:30 p.m.

The nice thing about being a chemo patient is that there is relatively no wait in the ER. I was taken back in 5 minutes. The nurse asked how I was doing and I said that for the first time, I was really feeling like a cancer patient. I guess this temperature thing can be serious. He took us into an ER room and gave me a gown and told me to lay down and they would take care of me. I said, "Wow, do I really need to put this on?" He said, "I know you don't realize it yet, but the gravity of this is more than you know. Why do you think you got in so quickly while other people were out in the waiting room before you?" Good point. So, Beni slumped in the chair in the corner and pulled up his hood and tried to sleep. Over the course of the next 3 hours, in between cat naps, I gave a urine sample, several blood samples and a chest-x-ray. Everything came back good, so at 1:30 a.m. I was released. If a sign of infection had been found, I would have had to stay hooked up to IVs for a while. Luckily, the temperature was just a freak thing, and no IVs were needed.

So, from this experience I have learned several things.

1. I don't want to have to return to the ER for a temperature again, if possible.

2. I should be less lazy and check my temperature as soon as I feel one coming on - not just as I am getting into bed.

3. If you have to go to the ER, it is good to be a chemo patient.

Bald is Beautiful Week 1

Thanks for all the loving and positive responses to my last entry. I know I am more than just my hair but all of your reminders helped me get over the anxiety of having a shaved head. My first day at work wearing a wig went well. My students had been warned that it would happen sometime that week, so they were all supportive. I got lots of complements from both students and staff alike. On the second day, one former male student came up to me with another former female student and asked me, "Why do you look weird?" The girl said, "Why would you say that?" I told them both that I have cancer and that I was wearing a wig and that might be why I looked different. The girl was shocked and gave me a hug. Then I looked to the boy and said, "So, do you still think I look weird?" He said, "Yeah." Knowing him, I was unphased. It was typical of that kid. At least my weird is temporary. Don't know if I can say the same for him. : )

On the first day of wig-wearing, I had the strange experience of not having my hair move naturally with my head as I turned left and right to back out of my driveway. I was jonesing to get it off as soon as possible. Two hours before the end of the school day, I started counting the minutes. Each day has gotten easier. At home, I wear cotton hats so as not to scare any neighborhood kids who come to the back door. I sleep bald, which was also a little hard to get used to. My bristly head against the pillow was a strange sensation.

I had my second chemo treatment on Thursday and was in the chair from 1:30 until 6:15. Crazy long time, but it was fine. The nurses are all really nice and the chair is comfy. I had time to grade one class's writing samples, read some prayer cards that people have sent or given me, and then watch a little news and HGTV. My only complaint was that my neighbors were a little louder than I would have liked. Why do people scream into cell phones? I was able to drive myself to and from.

Yesterday, the boys and I went in for my Neulasta shot which is a quick 15 minutes ordeal. Weight, blood pressure, temperature and oxygen check and then a shot. After that we picked up California Pizza Kitchen on the way home for my Friday night date with my girlfriends and went home to meet them. My friends and I enjoyed dinner and conversation and the boys got to play with their friends and everyone was happy.

Today I felt okay until I started taking sheets off the beds and felt achy in my shoulders and back. I took some trusty Tylenol and feel much better. Gonna take it easy now and grade some more papers and prepare for the week at work. I am hoping to be back to work on Tuesday for a half day before my next oncologist appt. at 12:30. We'll see how that goes. I'll fill you in again then.

Gone . . . Going . . . Gone

It. Is. Done. Forty-two years of hair sits in the garbage can. I have never been bald - ever! I was born with a full head of nice dark hair and have had it since. Until today. Today, I am not quite bald, but a #1 buzz, ala G.I. Jane. The cancer reading material recommends leaving a little around as to not irritate your scalp.

Beni was very sweet and asked me about fifteen times if I really wanted to this because we could wait. I knew it had to get done, yet I couldn't help but shed tears before, during and after. As I sat in the kitchen chair and Beni hacked away with the scissors, I felt like a Holocaust Jew in the movie Schindler's List. (I guess it doesn't help that we are starting a Holocaust novel in class right now.) The boys watched intermittently and thought it was weird, but were really good about the whole thing.

When the ordeal was over, Beni cleaned up and I went and took a shower and got all the hair off. I tried on the wig and trimmed the bangs. Not sure they are where they need to be, but better too long than too short.

If you dare, scroll down to see what I look like sans hair. It's definitely bizarre, but what they hell - if any of you asked, I'd show you, so why not post some pics and have some fun!

Eat your heart out Sinead O'Connor! Actually, I look more like Beverly from "The Voice".

Gotta laugh about it . . .

Silly faces with Frankie in my new gray turban . . .

More silly faces with Mario . . .

Love is . . . loving someone so much you'll get the same haircut!

I Don't Wanna Hair Cut!

Today is the day. This morning as I was flat ironing my already straight hair, more than usual came out. All I had to do was lightly grab a few strands and out they came, painlessly. Today, at work, I showed my co-worker and friend who is a breast cancer survivor, a handful of hair and asked, "Is this what it looks like when your hair starts falling out?" She replied, "It's time."

So, in an hour or two, after we eat dinner and wash the dishes, Beni will shave my head but all day I kept thinking, "I don't wanna hair cut!" It has been years since I have said those words and years since I've meant it. I have NEVER seen myself bald! I remember being mad when my dad (a barber) would cut my hair too short as a child and I thought I looked like a boy. What am I going to think NOW? Ugh. The idea of looking at a bald me in the mirror is sickening.

At the same time, I think it will be a relief to no longer wait for "the-falling-out-of-the-hair" to happen. It will be nice to not have hairs all over the bathroom floor. It will be nice to have a few extra minutes to sleep in the mornings, but I'd trade all of those things to keep my hair.

It's time to look like a cancer patient, I guess. It will be weird to be bald but feel fine. This is so weird. Consider this my pre-hair loss blog. I will post another tonight when it is all gone. If you're lucky, and I can stand to, I might even post a picture. I shudder to think.

Hair Today . . . Gone Tomorrow

This has been a slow blogging week simply because I have been feeling really good - pre-cancer normal, in fact. Feeling this way has made me realize that teaching will not be as big of a challenge as I had first anticipated. In fact, being at work on my normal days has been a great thing, helping me to forget there is anything wrong with me. I haven't taken a nausea pill or Extra-strength Tylenol all week! I haven't needed a nap all week either! These are all great signs. Of course, I realize that this may change, and if it does, come what may, but if it keeps up at this pace, kicking cancer in the butt will be as easy as 1-2-3! I just keep repeating my new mantra, "One day at a time."

My next chemo treatment is on Thursday of this week. That means I have a few more days of feeling good before the cruddy feeling returns. I will take a half day on Thursday to go to my treatment and am hoping to work on Friday with the help of the nausea meds. Friday I will go for my Neulasta shot and then feel icky through the weekend. Luckily, Monday is the Labor Day holiday and that will give me an extra recovery day without having to call in sick. If I feel well Tuesday, I will go to work, if not, that is only one sick day and then hopefully I can work the next 8 work days through till the next treatment. That's my plan anyway.

Today marks Day 12 since my first treatment and it is typically Day 14 when the hair loss begins. I am waiting. So far, I have only noticed an ever-so-slight difference in the hairs that come loose as I blow dry and style my hair. Beni will tell you that I have always "shed like a dog", so seeing hairs on the bathroom floor when I am done has never been a shocker. All last week, I have left my hair curly, afraid that pulling a round, bristle brush through my hair to straighten it would only cause more hair to come out, but I really don't like my hair curly, so Saturday, having the time to spend, I straightened it. As I said, not much more than usual came loose, and it was just strands - not big clumps.

Waiting for your hair to fall out is strange. Every morning, when I get out of bed, I look at the pillow to see if anything got left behind. Every time I run my hand through my hair, I am afraid of what may happen. A part of me is ready to shave it all off and end the wait, but then again, I think if I were to do that, I would be the rare exception whose hair didn't fall out until Day 21 and I'd have shaved my head for nothing. Therefore, I am waiting it out. I am crossing my fingers that a small bit falls out during the day, with recurrences through the afternoon so that I can shave it off in the evening and simply start the next day with my wig. Waking up and having it fall out will be nightmarish, since Beni leaves for work before I get up. I dread the thought of going to work with bald patches on my head, though I'm sure everyone would understand. I doubt it happens that way anyway, but the mystery of it all is worrisome.

Maybe by my next post I will be sharing a photo of the new, bald and beautiful me. In the meantime, here is something to remember my hair by (please ignore the grays, I can't justify coloring them when they are about to fall out):

Start Spreadin' The News

Today I shared the news with my students. On the second day of school, which is the first full-day of class, I like to play a game with them to help us get to know each other. The game is "Two Truths and a Lie". You tell two things about yourself and one untruth and the rest of the class has to guess which of the three is the lie. You definitely learn some interesting stuff about each other. I used this as my way of sneaking in the topic of having breast cancer. My first hour Honors class has been unusually quiet both days. When I put my two truths and a lie on the board - one reading, "I have been diagnosed with breast cancer," you could hear crickets chirping. I got weepy as I told my students the whole story and welcomed their questions. More crickets. I think they were flabbergasted and didn't know what to make of it. Maybe it was too early for them to process. I took this as a sign that maybe I should be making a game of it.

Period three went so much better. I just told the students I needed to tell them something important and broke the news. They were much more interested it seemed and asked some questions at the end. Then we lightened the mood by playing the game with their two truths and a lie. My Tomcat Time advisory went well, also, and we had a group hug at the end. Maybe those girls have matured over the summer, because they seem less annoying than last year.

Seventh hour I had students ask if I needed a hug. I told them that I didn't need one, but if they wanted to give me one, I'd be happy to have one. I got two. During ninth and tenth I got a little weepy again, but for the most part, I think it was a great day and with the exception of my first hour, I was pleased with each class's reaction.

Word is already getting around. Between 8th and 9th period two former students came up to me and asked, "Ms., is it true?" I told them it was and they said, "If there is anything we can do . . ." So sweet. They gave me hugs and I told them I loved them (which I do because they are such fun and sweet and good girls). I'm sure I'll be getting more visits like this in the upcoming days and weeks.

I by no means wish this type of ordeal on anyone, but I do wish that at some point in their lives, everyone, whether I know them or not, has the opportunity - hopefully in health, rather than sickness - to comprehend the scope of how much they are loved and have impacted others. I am feeling that so, so powerfully at this point in my life and it is truly humbling. Thank you's will never be enough. I love you all and again, say thanks for the support!

God is Good

After spending my two weekend days feeling blah and flu-like, I said a prayer last night, "God, please give me the strength and fortitude (yes, I think both God and I laughed at that word, but it sounded right in a prayer) to get through my first day with students tomorrow. God is good and he listens.

This morning I woke up feeling better than I have in days. Relatively speaking, I felt normal. I got through the entire day with no meds for nausea or achiness. I met my students, for the shortened, half-day periods, and went through my speeches with ease. It wasn't till about 2 that I felt a little shoulder tension. At 9:30 p.m. I am going to take my first meds - my goodnight meds as I like to call them (a Wilhomena Johnson from A Raisin in the Sun reference for my English teacher friends) - and head to bed.

Tomorrow is my first full day, but if it is as good as today, I am not worried. You can bet I'll be saying my prayers as usual and hoping for similar results. God is good! Amen!

One Day at a Time

I took a break from blogging for a couple of days, but I hope that none of my avid readers were alarmed. It was just a busy week, with work starting on Thursday and I came home exhausted and really uninterested in spending time on the computer.

Wednesday was a crazy, hectic day. I slept in a bit and got myself ready and gave the boys lunch and from there we did running around all afternoon. We started at Target to get a birthday gift, followed by "Meet the Teacher" at the boys' school. They each met their teachers and were able to drop off all of their school supplies in their classrooms and see where they would be sitting. Then we headed out the playground for free ice-cream. From there we drove to my school district's reprographic department to place an order for 1,000 junior English grammar workbooks. Then we went home, so the boys could change into their swimsuits and go to the bathroom. Then it was off again to the CDH Cancer Center for my shot of Neulasta. I have to go get this the day after each chemo treatment. Neulasta tells my bone marrow to produce white blood cells faster than they usually would. One of the side effects can be bone pain. After the shot the boys had swimming lessons and then, FINALLY, we were home for good.

My first night after chemo was a little uncomfortable, but only because I was a stickler for what "nausea" meant. I didn't feel like throwing up, but I kept waking up with acid reflux. I ended up getting up and sleeping on the couch for a while. When I went in for the Neulasta I talked to the nurse practitioner about my symptoms and she said to go ahead and take the nausea meds for heart burn type symptoms, too. She was right. Thursday night I was able to sleep better, though I kept waking up wondering if I would be completely immobilized with bone pain in the morning. This was, luckily, not the case.

On Thursday morning - my first day back to work for teacher meetings - I got up and felt relatively good. No bone pain, no nausea. As I was getting ready, I felt a little stiffness in my back and neck, so I took two Extra Strength Tylenol and that worked instantly. When I got to work, I took a nausea pill and that got me through the day, though it made me feel very sleepy. I came home Thursday and just took a nap. I felt hot all night long, but otherwise, okay. "My own personal summer," as my mom would call it.

Now, I am taking the nausea pill and two Extra Strength Tylenol before bed every night and waking up fine. Friday was another long day of meetings, which I was certain I would fall asleep during, but luckily didn't. Came home and napped for an hour and then took the boys to their last (thank goodness!) swimming lesson for a while. Then I just laid around. When Beni came home, I told him it felt like the air conditioner wasn't working. Sure enough, it wasn't. When it rains, it pours, I tell ya!

Today was Saturday, and I tried my darndest to see how I would feel without any meds. Honestly, besides a slight nausea headache, I felt fine. I did a lot of laundry with breaks between folding and putting away and paid some bills. I took a nice long nap, but woke up with a headache for which I took some Tylenol. I told Beni, I just feel weak, like I have a stomach flu but without the stomach flu symptoms. Just weakness and a slight headache. So far this is definitely manageable, but the idea of dealing with this daily for the next year is trying. One day at a time.

More Great News Thanks to the Power of YOUR Prayers

I know that all of your thoughts and prayers are working! Not only did I feel more loved than maybe ever in my life yesterday with all of you texting, emailing and messaging me on Facebook that you were thinking of me, but this morning before 9 a.m. I got a call from my doctor's office with the CT Scan results. The cancer has not - I repeat NOT - metastasized! Hooray!

I am feeling fine this morning. Kind of a sleepless night last night due to the steroids they gave me to counteract the toxicity of the meds. I purposely stayed up till 12 reading The Hunger Games because I wasn't sleepy, but each time I almost fell asleep, I found myself coughing/gagging on acid reflux - not a usual occurance. Finally at 1:30 I went back downstairs, drank some Sprite, and watched an hour of HGTV and tried to sleep on the couch. That must have worked. At 5:00 Beni came down to get ready for his first day back at school and I went up to bed and slept a bit more. I have a really busy day with lots of errands to run before school starts for me tomorrow and am glad I am feeling up to it. Maybe I can sqeeze in a nap later.

Now, I go back to the original topic of getting a GREAT CT result. If you do not like profanity, please kindly stop reading here. If it won't bother you, and you can take it all in good fun, keep reading! Hey Cancer! Goodbye mutha fuckaaaaaaaaaah! [In the voice of the Asian guy from The Hangover.]

Chemo Cocktail #1 with an H2O Chaser

Today was my first chemotherapy. As I posted yesterday, I went in thinking it would be just another needle. For the most part this was true.

I was weighed in kilograms - which I really prefer since the number is soooo much lower than its equivalent in pounds! Then I was taken into my own personal chemo room with a nice recliner, pillow, t.v. and dvd player just for me. My nurse, Heather, inserted an IV needle into a vein on my right hand and began by taking a vial or two of blood to the lab to check that all was well and I could begin treatment. The lab work took no more than 20 minutes and I was given some anti-nausea meds. That IV was followed by another steriod anti-nausea med. The IV was going into me, but the nurse didn't think the flow was good on that hand, so she placed another one in my left hand. It didn't take, so another nurse, "The Vein Whisperer" as I called her, came and inserted it. Then we began a toxic red chemo cocktail that, if it comes in contact with tissue, inside or out, can burn. Heather donned a surgical paper cover-up and gloves and covered my arm with something so none of the "medicine" would come in contact with my skin if any dripped. I got three lovely syringe-fulls of that.

By that time 3 hours had passed and Beni and the boys came to pick me up and so they sat with me for the final treatment. This one would be given over the course of half an hour. As it began to enter my system, my head began to feel tingly, which worried me because a friend who's been through all of this told me her head felt tingly when her hair fell out. The sensation moved from the back of my head to my sinuses. Then my nose became almost instantly congested. I told the nurse and she said that no one had ever told her that before. Great! She went to look into it and came back to report that another nurse said that only one other person at the center experienced that reaction, so the next time they would give me that particular med over the course of an hour instead of only 30 minutes. Hopefully, letting it go in more slowly will get rid of the side-effects. After the IV was emptied into me, I waited for 15 minutes. Luckily, once the chemo was done, those tingly symptoms went away. The needle was removed and I was on my way.

I was glad the boys and Beni got to come and see where I will be and how it will look when I get my treatments. The place itself is very stylish and the people were very nice. Now I have to remember to drink my water - 64 oz. a day if not more - and pee every 2 hours to get the chemicals out of my system so they are not sitting in my bladder for extended amounts of time.

The only side effect I am experiencing so far is feeling flushed. I wouldn't call it hot flashes, because I am feeling constantly hot - no flashing, just steady hot. I've got the anti-nausea pills at the ready but the nurse said I probably won't need them right away.

One down, only 19 more to go!

It Must Be The Hot Dogs

I just got a phone call from my genetic counselor with Alexian Brothers to tell me the results of my BRAC Analysis. They were negative, meaning that my cancer is not genetic, but the result of some environmental cause.

I was convinced that it would have been positive, with a maternal grandfather who died of colon cancer, an uncle surviving rectal cancer, and an aunt and my mom who are both breast cancer survivors. Yet, this crazy disease surprises me once again.

The BRAC test looks at 88% of genes and mine were clear, which means I am back in the mix with the general population of non-genetic cancer patients in terms of a recurrence. Much better odds!

It all makes me wonder. What DID cause my cancer? My mother might say I ate too many hot dogs. She swears the preservatives and fillers are toxic and cause all kinds of problems - like ADHD and Aspergers. I'm sure she would throw cancer in as well. I do like hot dogs.

I have to ask myself if it was where I grew up. There is a strange, and in my opinion, Erin-Brocovich-type, occurance of cancer on the street where I grew up. On the bottom half of the block, there have been 10 cancer diagnoses in just 9 homes. It's enough to make you wonder. Maybe someday we'll have the answer.

MUGAs, CTs and Chemo . . . Oh My!

Today, at 9 o'clock, I went to CDH (my hospital) for my last two tests (for the time being). All that was involved in the MUGA scan (it's an acronym for something) was getting injected with some small amount of stuff and waiting 15 minutes. Then I was taken into a room with a large machine like the bone scan machine. I laid on the table and the technician put another IV into my arm with another fluid. He slid me into the machine so that my heart was under a diagonally placed x-ray frame and I stayed there for 10 minutes while the machine took pictures of my heart function. Much like the bone scan, I was able to see my heart - left and right ventricles - beating in my chest in dot matrix-style. By 9:30 I was done which was not a good thing since my CT wasn't until 12:00.

Luckily, the tech who did the MUGA was a really nice young med student who asked the ladies behind the desk to take me in early. Almost immediately after I settled into the chair in the waiting room, I was called to go in for the CT. They didn't realize that I was having a scan of my chest, abdomen and pelvis areas, so instead of putting me into the machine right away, I had to go sit in another waiting room and spend an hour drinking a 1/4 cup of barium every 1/4 hour. It wasn't too bad since they flavored it with either raspberry, peach iced-tea Crystal Light or vanilla. I went with the peach. It was like a bad smoothie from a place you would never go to again, but still not disgusting. I felt a little guilty when two other CT patients with appointments before my original noon time came in and drank their barium smoothies and I still got called in first. Oh well - I just didn't make eye contact with them on my way out. It wouldn't have mattered if we hadn't shared out appt. times while we were commenting on the taste of our smoothies, but I had told them I got snuck in early. Oops.

After the drink was finished the tech came to get me and again, I laid on a table that was slid into a machine. I was pricked again and told that at one point during the pictures, the IV would release iodine into my system and it would feel warm and almost like I was wetting myself. The guy in the waiting room had mentioned that, but I was skeptical. No joke, you feel it the instant the iodine hits your blood stream and it travels down the side of your body until it REALLY DOES FEEL like you've wet yourself. I mean, it feels so real, you are hoping you didn't let loose for real while you were feeling like you did! Crazy stuff! Luckily, when I got off the table I was still dry. How embarrassing would THAT have been!

I left the hospital WAY earlier than planned and got to spend the rest of the afternoon at home. Did some work for school, read some of The Hunger Games (another great Young Adult book!) and took the boys to swimming lessons where Mario earned the MOST IMPROVED certificate for the summer session. He really has come such a long way!

A few moments ago, Beni asked me how I'm feeling about tomorrow. "Excited? Upset?" Neither. I am kind of indifferent. I have had so many tests done that at this point chemo seems like another period of time where I will sit with a needle in my arm. I am definitely not excited. This isn't something I have been looking forward to, though I am glad to get it underway. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish. I admit that I am worried about the timing and how I will feel for the beginning of the school year, but there is nothing I can do about that but take it one day at a time. [Now the theme song from the late 70s sitcom is playing in my head]. I am also dreading my hair falling out, but I know that will come in time, too. Today, I received my mom's knit cap from when she underwent chemo in the mail from my sister. I also ordered three cotton skull caps for around the house and my wig should be ready before the hair falls out. Fingers crossed.

So, tomorrow is the big day. As Beni said, my fight begins tomorrow. I disagreed. I think the emotional and mental fight has already begun. The physical fight starts tomorrow. If I am feeling okay, I'll let you know all about it tomorrow evening. If not, give me a few days and I'll get you all caught up. So many of you have already reached out with messages letting me know you will be thinking of me and praying and each of those messages is like a big warm hug I will take with me to my chemo chair!

On your marks, get set, here we go . . .

Who'd Have Thunk It

Yesterday, I did something no woman thinks she will ever have to do. I went shopping for a wig. I was very lucky to have my friend, Jennifer, come along with me for both moral support and an honest opinion. We went to the American Cancer Society office in Oak Brook Terrace and met with the wig boutique volunteer, Maggie, who was very helpful and sweet.

When Jennifer and I entered the small boutique area at the back of the offices, we both had the same sinking feeling (though we discussed it after we'd left). The six or seven wigs on display, sitting on the traditional 70's style mannequin heads, looked like trashy wigs. We both secretly thought, 'Please let their selection be better than this!' (See above)

Luckily, Maggie, opened some cabinets and pulled out some samples from quite an assortment of colors and styles, all of which looked better than the ones sitting upon the plastic heads. Maggie was very accomodating and went along with my sense of humor when I asked to try on a red wig, just so I could take a picture as a joke to send to my neice, who has some strange aversion to red-heads (no offense to my red-headed friends). We mostly stuck with brunette mid to short styles and finally came to the choice above. It doesn't look as good as it should because it was a little small. Maggie is ordering it in a larger size and I should have it in a couple of weeks - just in time for the hair loss to hit. The best part is it is 100% FREE! Thank you American Cancer Society!

After wig shopping, a girl has to let off some stress, so Jennifer and I did a little shopping at Ulta for eye brow stencils and make up, Old Navy for a couple of tops - Hey! If a girl's gonna work, she needs a new back-to-school outfit! and window shopping at DSW. Then we headed to downtown Naperville to meet my other friend Megan for dinner at Catch 35. Great food, great company, a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio and a girl can forget that the hair she's wearing right now will not be there next month.