Thoughts On Hair

I've written this post over and over in my head, but never put it to paper, so to speak.  As time goes on and my hair starts to grow once again, I want to record as much as I can remember about this time of hairlessness.

Losing my hair as a result of chemo was not traumatic, but certainly a bit of a shock. Especially when handfuls of my long locks started falling away from my head. I was shedding more than Roxi!

But this is about more than the hair on my head. Chemo did a number on most of the hair on my body, especially that which I shaved or plucked -- it just ceased to grow.

I really didn't miss shaving my legs and pits, and loved giving the tweezers a rest. No brows or chinny chin chin hairs to rid myself of.

While the summer heat made me feel worse during chemo, it was nice to have smooth, if a bit pasty, chicken legs those times I ventured outside.

Actually, feeling crappy it was nice not to have to invest a lot of time in grooming. Showers were pretty quick. A little spot of shampoo on my scalp, nothing to shave. In and out in no time. And once I was out, I didn't have to deal with drying or styling my hair. 

I saved time and money, though the cash was redirected to headcovers.com,  a site from which I ordered several scarves and hats.

Chemo does different things to different people. I was frightened by the long list of side effects prior to starting, and relieved that, as with most drugs and medications, most don't apply.

Something else that Marc and I both noticed was how very smooth my skin was. Everywhere. My legs, my arms, my back. My elbows, which are always rough and wrinkly. Smooth. Break outs were minimal in the places that are usually problem areas.

Its been almost 2 months since I finished chemo. Besides eating and feeling more like myself, my skin has returned to its normal, and my hair is growing back. Sparse leg hairs, not much to pluck on my brows and chin, and almost a quarter inch of dark and grey on my scalp. I've gone from the soft pink puppy belly, to soft and fuzzy like new growth on a baby's head.

Sometimes, I go bare headed. Always at home, but occasionally, when I'm out. Truthfully, it's just been too cold lately to keep my head uncovered. I actually find the back of my neck even colder, as I'm used to having hair hanging down to keep it warm at this time of year.

Every night as I'm crawling into bed, the thought crosses my mind that I have to let my hair down before I lay down. It's not hanging around my face, so my first thought is that its pulled back. It happens every time. I truly forget that I don't have any hair on my head. Or at least, not much.

I may have mentioned this before, but walking around with no hair on my head draws attention, sympathetic looks, and prompts people to share stories with me. Often stories of their own status as a cancer survivor.

No one would ever wish to be battling cancer, but I must say its been an experience I don't regret. I don't wish it on anyone. But I do cherish the encounters with strangers, and the time and support of friends and family. The health care professionals. The strength and love and courage of everyone. Humankind is good.

Over the Radiation Hump!

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel -- 18 down, 12 to go. Barring any cancelations, I will be done on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

I'm having to take an hour out of every day, and work around that hour between 10:30 and 11:30 every morning. But that's it. Oh, and remembering not to apply cream or lotion of any kind 4 hours prior, to the target area.

I can eat what I want and it tastes good -- tastes like it should! My head is clear -- no chemo fog. And of course, no nausea!

Now, there is the problem of the hot flashes. Those have lingered and I expect that to continue. I've been doing a bit of research and confirmed that yes, chemo can put you into menopause. It was getting close to that time anyway, I figure! And hot flashes can be worse when chemo is the trigger. I figure I'm somewhat in the middle as far as hot flashes go. I'm painfully aware of them, and they're still waking me several times a night. But my heart rate doesn't change, and I don't think my face gets flushed. (I keep forgetting to check in the mirror when one hits) I read of women who thought they were having a heart attack as their heart rate quickens with each occurence. So while they suck, they could still be worse!

And the kindness of family and friends never stops. I appreciate the kind words, cards, emails and never tire of hearing from everyone.

I was surprised by a package a couple of weeks ago. Marc was away and it was our wedding anniversary week -- he always seems to be away that week. So I thought at first it was from Marc. But upon opening the box, which contained a vase, cut flowers, and chocolates, I discovered it was from Pier, Nate and the bubs. So sweet, so beautiful, and so delicious!

Gorgeous!

Confessing here that no member of my family saw these fancy chocolates. I ate them ALL! And not even all at once. I paced myself and ate one or two a day, so I am guilty of not sharing, and hiding them. From the kids, the dog, and the husband. I'm not proud, but they were oh so good!

The following week, our neighbor Jane, who lives around the corner, surprised me with these. In lovely pink foil and with a pink bow. Beautiful and perfect for the season.

Radiation Week 1

Is almost done. Since I started on a Wednesday, for counting purposes, Tuesdays are the last day of my 'week'. And I am now in my regular time slot of 10:45 every morning, Monday to Friday.

I have yet to go straight to my appointment and back from home, so I can't say exactly how long it takes. But if I did, I'd leave home around 10:30. Today, I was on the table right on time -- 10:45 is when they called me back. And I was walking out to my car just past 11. Going straight home should take 10 minutes at the most at that time of day. So if the stars aligned, 45 minutes door to door to door. To be on the safe side, I allow 1 hour.

I think that's fabulous. Some people have to allow just that much in traveling time, sometimes each way, for every day of radiation. Hence the fatigue.

The radiation process at AMH runs like a well oiled machine. I have a card with a bar code, that I scan each time I come in. It let's the staff in the radiation area know that I'm here. I change into my two gowns, the first open to the back and the second, over that, open to the front, like a robe. Personally, I don't think the second is necessary since I only remove clothing from the waist up. Even if that first gown is flapping in the breeze as I make my way through the hallways, there's no show to be had. Different for the many gentlemen in for their prostates. I guess that's where the 2 gown idea came from. And why there is a women's waiting area and a men's waiting area.

Once I'm doubly gowned, I make my way to the women's waiting area. When it's my turn, I'm alerted by a page over the intercom system. Off to room 1, where's they're waiting to get me lined up.

I'm positioned on my back, knees bent, an ergonomic cushion for support, left arm slipped out of my gown, raised up into what is also a position specific to me. The device which holds my arm has different settings too.

I have no idea what the numbers they call out mean, but I know they're for properly positioning me to receive the correct radiation. A little wiggle and push here and there, and I'm good to go. I'm left alone and the machine starts humming.

There's also a display of numbers and settings on a monitor that's visible during the process. Red cross hairs illuminate the targeted area. First, from the left. After a minute or two -- and I promised Marc I'd try to remember to time this tomorrow -- the machine rotates over my head to send the second dose from the right.  Another minute or two, and it's done.

I had imagined it a bit differently, but the way it's done makes sense. Coming at it from the side minimizes the risk of damage to other parts. Like my lung. Or my heart. So from the side is good.

When I'm done, the technicians return to the room to help me up and out of there. Til the next day.

Don my clothes, make sure the gowns find their way to the laundry bin, and out the door. Pick up my car and continue on my way.

My third day of radiation was last Friday, and it was the first time I had a 10:45 appointment. It was also the first time there was anyone else in the women's waiting area with me.

An older women, with an accent I have yet to place. She first asked if I had had chemo. (pretty obvious) I told her yes. She said she only needed radiation, no chemo.

She asked me what stage. I told her 1. She said she was stage 0.

She asked if I had a lumpectomy. I answered yes, and she said she had also.

She told me about a month and a half had passed since her surgery and her scar was almost invisible. She described the location, a straight line just above her nipple. Left breast. (more breast cancer occurs on the left)

Then she showed me.

And she was right. It was almost invisible.

I wondered whether or not I was supposed to now show mine. I did tell her I had two scars not one. Located more like in my arm pit.

With the double gown thing, it would have been difficult to share my scars.

Then I heard my name over the intercom. "Mrs. Pelletier, come back please". So off I went.

Five weeks to go!

Chapter Next: Radiation

Starts tomorrow. Monday to Friday, for 6 weeks. I'll know more after tomorrow, but I figure it should take less than an hour each day.

Tomorrow and Thursday, my appointment is 8:45 a.m.. Friday forward, I will have a standing appointment at 10:45 a.m. The hospital is about 10 minutes away, especially at that time of day.

The most discussed side effect is fatigue, though it's not clear whether it is caused by the actual radiation, or rather the pace. The schedule. The having to do it every day. That's one theory.

Some people travel greater distances to receive treatment, and that can contribute to the fatigue. Having to fit in that extra time each day can be tough. Since my 'extra' time isn't as great, I'm hoping the fatigue won't be either.

I continue to be buoyed by the love and support of so many wonderful people, family and friends. Here and faraway. Wonderful hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. And cards. Crossing the border from Monique, and crossing township lines from Patti C.

Beautiful flowers from Sue & Jim, celebrating the end of chemo. They've been brightening these past few days, and that lovely ceramic pumpkin they're in will continue to do so for long after.

I'm one lucky girl.

Self-Portrait

Photo by me. Inspiration by Jasmine

Jasmine hosts a monthly photo challenge.  Last month's categories were 'beautiful' and 'old'. I had taken some photos for the 'old' category, but wasn't happy with them. Couldn't think of anything for the beautiful category.  Jasmine emailed me and suggested I take photos of me with my new hair and submit them for that category.

The ideal would be to find a way to have Jasmine take those photos. She possesses some mad photography skilz, that girl! But since she's in Utah and I'm here in PA, I may have hair again before I have the opportunity to be in front of her lens.

Of the several I took, I emailed four of them. I didn't tell Jasmine which was my favourite, but we both chose the same one. And then she featured it first on that post -- what an honour!

You must check out not only that post -- amazing photography for both categories -- but her entire blog. She is an incredible artist who's mediums are endless: paint, paper, make up, film, you name it. And she's an awfully nice person too!

Goodness. Kindness.

Continues.

A beautiful flower arrangment, from the Pelletiers, in Winnipeg. Brightness and cheer for almost 2 weeks.

Yummy chicken, broccoli and mashed potato dinner from Melissa, with home made rice pudding for dessert. Perfect for my tummy two days after chemo.

Spaghetti bolonese, an exotic salad and crusty Italian bread from Pam. We enjoyed this last week and it was perfect on a day where we had to run out again shortly after the bus.

Julie, caught in the act of delivering tea biscuits on an Sunday afternoon. Gaby just happened to have my camera in her hands as Julie arrived, and she snapped this photo! I'm glad she did, because the last couple of times Julie delivered tea biscuits, she managed to sneak them on our doorstep unnoticed, early on a weekday, on her way to work. Got you this time Julie!

Pumpkin chocolate chip cookies from Elise, left with Gaby last Sunday while I was driving Marc to the airport. Still feeling crummy last Sunday, I had decided it would be best to skip out the first day of Sunday school. Not sure if the other teachers had anything planned for the craft, I decided to just pop in and drop off big heart shapes and a bag of stickers, for first day name tags. They did have something prepared. On the way out, I ran into several people, including Elise. Feeling the need to explain both my appearance, and the direction I was headed, I let them know I was on my way home to nurse my head cold.  Elise obviously picked up on that. Those cookies have been great with the many cups of tea I've had of late.

Goodness. Kindness. Blessings.

 

Hot Flashes and a Head Cold

What a combination!

It's been more than 2 weeks since my last and final chemo and I'm finally writing once again. That high on Wednesday was short-lived. I crashed and burned Thursday and Friday, and slowly rebounded as the weekend progressed. The usual nausea, sensitivity to smells and most foods, fogginess, and quite lethargic.

And the hot flashes continued. Yes they did. And still are.

Chemo can push your body into menopause. Is that where they're coming from, and are they here to stay? Oh I hope not.

Haven't had a good night's sleep since these hot flashes started, which could contribute further to my state of rundownness (my word). Which in turn made it easier for me to pick up Nick's cold-that-we-thought-was-aggrevated-allergies. Started with a sore throat last Thursday and a low grade fever. Evolved into a full blown head cold with sore eyes. Muscle-sore, as in hurts to move them. A very strange symptom indeed, but Nick and I compared notes and discovered that it must indeed be a symptom of this strain of cold virus, as he had it too.

Feeling occasional chills with this cold just added to the extremes that the hot flashes bring. Cold, cold, shivering, bundle yourself from head to toe kind of chills, then, wham, a hot flash. Throw off the blankets and try to expose as much as possible, to cool this top to bottom heat. Anything covered feels even hotter, as if the heat is trapped, becoming more intense as it tries to escape.

Anyone who has experienced hot flashes knows what I'm talking about. I'm obviously much more of a complainer than my Mom. She went through this for years. I witnessed them on many occasionals. She might tug at her collar and fan herself a bit, but that was the extent of it.

After a week of the cold, and the fatigue that seems to plague me more week 3 than week 2, I'm looking forward to next Tuesday, the first '3rd' Tuesday in the last few months, that will be chemo free. I'm anxious to see how I'll be feeling then, and how much better food will taste!

Chemo is DONE!!

As Dr. N said, it was graduation day! Thank goodness!

But there were a few hiccups.

Great weather this time, and we arrived right on time for my 9:45 appointment with the doctor, with chemo scheduled for 10. Now, this was really the only day we had some time restraints. We had to pick Nick up at school at 2:20 to get him to his 3:00 allergy shots appointment (for which we're usually 10 minutes early and taken promptly) and then get Marc home in time to turn around and head for the airport for his night flight to Belgium.

Hiccup # 1: no record of my doctor appointment. The chemo was scheduled, thankfully. But they couldn't find anything about the first appointment. As I was waiting for them to sort it out, which they assured they would, what seemed like a long string of people (not really THAT long, but in this situation it seemed like dozens when it was really 3 or 4 folks!) all coming in for their appointments with Dr. N. Of course they did get it all worked out, pleasantly, as always. Did I mention there seems to be all nice people working there. Only nice people.

So we were set back a bit, putting me in the infusion room, sitting in my comfy recliner, at 10:30 instead of 10. Perhaps I delayed things a bit, but since it was my last chemo, I requested, and was obliged with, a photo of this fabulous doctor and nurse team.

That's Dr. N on the left and Nurse B on the right. My medical oncologist and the breast cancer nurse for all patients at that location. I'll have to check her card and perhaps correct this to a more accurate description. They are as amazing, personable and upbeat as they look. And so professional, compassionate, patient, caring, all of those adjectives and more. I can't say enough how pleasant they have made every visit, every step of this decidedly unpleasant stretch of this journey. Love them.

In the infusion room, I've been in the care of equally adjective-worthy nurses, though never the same one. But they cover each other, so I might start out with a main nurse for the visit, but others step in and cover if she's busy with someone else, or my pump beeps when she's not around. This time, it was Patti, and she was fabulous. And again, so were the others with whom she tag teamed.

My vein, usually fine, appeared to be wearing signs of an old bruise, perhaps even from the last chemo. I hadn't noticed and hadn't felt everything. Because of the removal of lymph nodes and the subsequent risk of lymphodema in my left arm, no blood pressure or vein puncture of any kind is now allowed on that left side. So we're down to the right.

After getting slow to no flow in that vein, a decision was made to search for a new one. Closer to my wrist. Less meaty, a bit painful initially, but once she had it solidly set up, it was good to go. Since nothing started flowing into my veins til 10:50, I anticipated my ETC (estimated time of completion -- my acronym!) to be more like 1:50. Called Marc to tell him, only to have him tell me that he would be stuck on a conference call til 2:00, not leaving to pick me up til then. That stressed me, as I couldn't see getting to the school on time for Nick, which would make us late for the allergy appointment, and might get us back home late, and have Marc leaving late, maybe too late, for the airport. Not good.

In the end it all worked out.

Nick hopped the bus, and we got home 5 minutes before him. Picked him up on the way home from the bus stop, got to the Dr's building right at 3, Marc dropped us off and parked, so we were only a couple of minutes late walking in. Thankfully, as usual they took him right away. Then the obligatory 20 minute wait, they check the 4 injection sites, and we're usually cleared to go. Marc again left to get the car and picked us up at the door, which saved a few minutes once more. We were home by 3:40.

I forgot to mention that between Nick's and Gaby's departures for school this morning, a little elf I suspect to be Julie C left a yummy package of tea biscuits between the doors. So sweet and perfectly timed. I was looking forward to brewing a cup of tea, spreading on some chilled butter, and enjoying a biscuit.

I also forgot to mention that when we got home from the hospital, just before leaving to get Nick, there was another package on our doorstep. A box. From a Philly bakery. And a notecard from Helen. Explaining, among other things, that the box contained an apple crumb pie. And it looked delicious!!

But for the time being, the pie was safely secured on top of the fridge, one of the few Roxi-proof locations in our home, and we had to turn around to get Nick. With Marc's efficient driving, he left himself enough time for a slice of that pie when he got home. Of course Nick's was consumed at a more leisurely pace, though it's pretty much like Father like Son, the speed at which they consume almost anything!

Before Marc left, I checked the mail and found 3 cards addressed to me. From Steph, Gaby's teacher from last year, Pam, and another from Odette and Tony.

Shortly after Marc left, I heard a vehicle stopped outside, and beat Roxi to the door, closed her off from the action, which was a gentlemen walking up the drive with a floral arrangement. From my Mom and Dad, and my sister's family. Celebrating the end of my chemo, 2400 km away.

I tried calling my Mom but got her voicemail. I was so choked up I couldn't leave a proper message, and gave the impression that I was upset. Which I wasn't. Just ovewhelmed again.

This was yesterday. Along with loving emails from Pier and A. Judy, and Linda. Lots of supportive messages on FB. Another delicious meal from Nina, though I didn't have my camera this time! A promise of tomorrow's meal from Melissa.

And now, lots of plans for coffee, tea, playdates, in the near future. And I can't wait.

Right now, what I'm really working towards is two more good days like this. My friend Tracey, with whom I worked with for 10 years I'd say, will be in Parsippany NJ for the weekend, joining her husband who has been there this past week and next. When she found out she was going to be there for a longish weekend, she wrote and proposed we get together on Friday. I was crushed. Knowing how bad I had previously felt in those first few days after chemo, I had my doubts that we would see each other.

Now, Tracey moved to TX in 99, two years after we moved to PA. I really don't recall seeing her in Winnipeg once she moved (too cold to go back at Christmas, eh Trac?!)  Two years ago, we reunited with our potluck friends here, for our Six in the City and Wine Tasting Adventure weekend. It was fabulous, but I haven't seen her since. She, the giver of the beautiful blue scarf I've been wearing, would be the perfect person to see right now.

That's my plan, my hope. A real life hug from Tracey on Friday. I'll let you know how that turns out!

Gaby, my supportive caregiver and sidekick in all of this, took  my 4th and final photo in front of her beautiful poster.

Fourth. Final. DONE!! Yahoo!!!

I will carefully remove that poster soon, and preserve that lovely portrait in the scrapbook I plan to put together. I'm stuck on the title 'When you have cancer . . .'   I figure it's a good one to run with.

I've been collecting papers, bits, cards, photos, emails, you name it, to include. Got the book, the paper, just gotta get going. Soon.

And I've got to get back to my journal, a gift from Lynn, that I've been using to record notes, memories, events, gifts. PKay sent another card recently, as did Dave and Deb. Missy made sure Gaby got to soccer practice tonight and Coach got her home. Carole's assured us she'll get Gaby to the ice cream social at her school tomorrow night. They don't want to miss that, and I just might have to this year.

I don't want to forget all of the goodness. I've saved all of the emails to print. I could do the same with all of the FB messages. All for that scrapbook I've just got to get started on.

In the meantime, opportunities like these continue to present themselves.

Snapped this picture mid-morning. More goodies in the door.

Homemade cinnamon buns, a lovely card and even the newspaper between the door, from dear Nary.

(In keeping with my effort to maintain this 'good feeling' I'll save the details of this day after, for another post and make sure I get some sleep. After drinking as much more water as I can!)

XO

Round Last tomorrow (and new side effects!)

I am thrilled that in approximately one week, I expect to be eating somewhat normally, driving, walking, talking, smelling, and feeling more like myself. I have noticed a true cycle, even in this short duration of chemo. I've found that I feel best towards the end of week two, as the bone pain is done, and surprisingly, fatigue isn't too much of a problem at that time. I'm most tired the 5 days following chemo and the 5 or so days before the next chemo.

The side effects I've experienced have been nausea, fogginess (for lack of a better word - a feeling akin to having one too many mojitos), constipation (due to the nausea medicine, I believe), heartburn (due to the steroids) These are my first week side effects.

Bone pain kicks in the second week due to the neulasta, but taking ibuprofen makes it bearable.

After rounds two and three, I've experienced heavy tearing of my eyes, which I intially thought was conjunctivitus, but turns out to be a side effect. That and dry eye, which I thankfully didn't experience. The tearing starts about midway through week 2, and continues right til the next chemo. It does stop for a week and some after the chemo and starts again. Now, what will make it stop after the final round?!

After round three, I've been experiencing hot flashes. Oh yeay menopause! Possibly, though I asked ME, another friend who recently defeated breast cancer, and she recalls the same thing. And she's a few years younger than me! So hopefully, it's not menopause and will be gone, with the rest of the side effects, in a few weeks. Marc is getting tired of me ripping off my sleeping cap and covers in the middle of the night, and 1/2 later covering up and groping around for the cap, only to do the same thing again later in the night. Not sure how many times it happens, but enough for him to discuss the couch as an option! Now, if this IS going to continue and is due to menopause, we're facing several years of this. Sorry honey, you know what we said about for better and for worse . . .

I forgot to mention what is almost the worse side effect for me, which is the taste of food, or lack and alteration thereof. Those first few days, even chilled bottled water, the most tasteless thing of all, just does not taste good. And it's important that I drink alot those first few days, but oh so difficult.

I just pulled out the handouts that Dr. N gave me during my first visit. Detailed informatuon about the Cytoxan and Taxotere, the two chemotherapy drugs I'd been on. I was scared to death after reading that list of side effects, even though asssurances are included that you will not get all side effects, and the odds are included. If you think about the variety of medicines we take in the modern world, we generally don't worry about the long list of side effects that accompanies them. We all KNOW we won't experience them all. But this is different.

I'm lucky I can keep food down, even though it doesn't taste good. Loss of fertility: who cares at this stage of the game! I've noticed no changed in my nails, which can sometimes range from discoloration, to losing them.

No mouth sores, No peripheral neuropathy, no fluid retention with weight gain, ankle or abdominal swelling.

But I did lose my hair. Quite rapidly. But that doesn't hurt. It was a bit uncomfortable wearing a scarf or hat during the record hot summer we had. But the extra big smiles and sympathetic looks I get are nothing but heart warming. And I've had many people share their stories of simliar battles. Making these connections is all good.

I've saved time and money on grooming. Can't complain about that.

Let's just hope that I'm not speaking too soon and that round last will be the absolute worst! I really believe that what will get me through this, besides first and foremost the love and support of all of my amazing family and friends, is the fact that it is the LAST!!

Given that it is the last, I've been up baking cookies to take tomorrow, to those wonderful people who's job it is to get me through my chemotherapy, and who do it with such grace, compassion and professionalism. Every day.

I did take my lorazepam, so I should be getting sleepy soon. It's been about an hour.

But I must close with a card that I received yesterday.

Ann handed it to me after church. I'm not always certain if I should open these on the spot or save them. Sometimes they can bring on the tears, so I usually wait.

I should have opened this one as soon as it was handed to me. While Ann added her own lovely sentiments, I laughed out loud upon opening the envelope, and even her warm words wouldn't have wiped that grin off of my face!

Check it out!!

Isn't this awesome!?

Inside it reads, "But if it sucks the cancer right out of you, then 'yay, chemo!'"

And on the back: "This card was designed by Robyn, whose mother-in-law Roxanne used both chemo and jokes to fight cancer. She thinks you'll agree that jokes are more fun."

Chemo sucks and I'll be happy to kiss it goodbye!

A Birthday

Mine. Turned 48 this year. A very quiet, low key celebration. Truthfully, celebration is probably not the best word to describe it this year. Round 3 was on Tuesday the 24th of August and my birthday was the 27th. Of course, THIS time round, my worst day seemed to be the Friday. Couldn't have been Wednesday or Thursday this time, as had been the case with Rounds 1 and 2. Nooooooo. I woke up Friday morning feeling horrible and just didn't get any better.

Gaby and my Mom spent the morning baking and frosting a yummy red velvet cake. Gaby also made one of her special signs for the occasion.

The birthday girl!

Lately, I keep telling people I feel better than I look in a lot of the photos I see of myself. Well, this time, I felt as bad as I looked here. What you see is what I was feeling -- pretty crappy!  No make up, jewellry, flattering colours, nada. A beautiful little black cap that does nothing to enhance the look.

I was talking to my sister Linda on the phone here. She had called just as they were bringing the cake out, so we just kept talking.

It took me more than one try to blow out those many candles, and they did a bit of a melt job on the frosting.

We had ordered Rosario's for supper. A pizza and wings. They have  delectible wings with just the right amount of heat for me and they always include blue cheese dip. On that day, I was having nothin' to do with them. Good old plain pizza for me. That's all I could stomach.

And I'm sad to say that I had none of that yummy cake. Not one bite.

That wasn't the case on Tuesday, when Mom and Dad took us out for my birthday dinner.

Check out my plate. Not a morsel left! We also had take out tiramisu and I polished off my portion as soon as we got home. That was a great dinner. Thanks Mom and Dad! ( they were there too but I didn't get a picture of them -- errors and omissions such as this I blame on chemo brain)

It also took me over a week to get a photo of the sign Gaby made. I actually put it back up today and had her pose in front of it with me. She wised up this year and didn't put an age on it, so that we can put it away and use it again next year, and the year after that. And so on.

Didn't she do a fabulous job?

Here's one more view of it. I should put these side by side like Life magazine, to see if you can find the differences between the two photos.

You've probably figured it out. Gaby's not smiling in the second photo.

Oh, yeah, and I have no hair. Actually, I had no hair in the first photo either, but my head was covered. So technically, it's that I have no scarf on my head in the second photo!

I think I wish I was brave enough to go out like this, because with the heat we've had, it would feel much much better. However, with that heat, I'd have to be mindful of the sun, and the possibility of burning this virgin skin.

I also really don't think I'd be comfortable with the attention, double takes and stares. I would certainly think twice about showing up at Gaby's school, or at church to teach Sunday school (Pre K and K) without something covering my dome. It's just such a distraction.

On the other hand, if I was away from home, on vacation, where no one knows me, I probably wouldn't think twice about it. I actually wore a two piece bathing suit on a dare from my husband (or was it a lost bet?) when we were in OCMD 5 years ago. And that was at the end of August, after having worn a one piece all summer, so it was glaringly obvious that I was wearing a new suit. But you wouldn't have caught me doing that at the local pool.

Perhaps if I was an athlete.

A story was featured on the news about a month ago about a local woman, a triathlete, and her past and successful battle with breast cancer. Going from the water to her bike to running, any sort of head covering would just be a hindrance, so her head remained uncovered. But she looked cool. Mall walkers just don't have that same image. We might wish we did, but that's just not reality.

The pace I keep, whether walking around the mall or the block, allows me to keep a hat on my head. I did get a couple of hats that are supposed to be made for exercise, and I do wear them for walking. They're also good for inside when the AC's a bit chilly. (with Nick's allergies, the windows remain closed most of the time)

I've strayed from the original subject, having a birthday during chemo. Sucks in some ways, but proof that life does go on. Cancer must be dealt with, fought, and defeated, 365 days a year.

And even though it wasn't much of a celebration, I was fortunate to be with my parents for my birthday, which doesn't happen every year. So that's a good thing.

Love from Canada

My Mom and I are a good pair when it comes to remembering things. For now, I can lay blame to chemo brain, but anyone who knows me knows that, if I don't put it on my to-do list, I usually don't do. Chemo or no chemo.

Mom can blame both age and the brain aneurysm she survived over 13 years ago. Her short term memory just ain't what it used to be. It well could be the part of her brain that was home to the aneurysm. This was confirmed by her doctor. Or it might have just been at the same time that some memory loss would have become more evident.

Whatever our reasons or excuses may be, neither one of us remembered to view the photo CD that my parents brought with them, from my sister Linda.

Mom and Dad left in the predawn hours Thursday morning, and it wasn't til yesterday that I looked at the CD. Even though Linda had reminded me -- sorry Lin!

These are awesome pictures that I want to share here. Story to follow!

Cousin Jodene and her beau.

A. Judy and cousin Alissa.

A. Joanne and Mom

artists at work

Their art. Jay and A. Marianne.

A close up.

The dinner we missed.

Nephew Dustin and his cousin. (Jane or Kara -- sorry!)

BIL Dave, nephew Derrick, U. Armand

Mom and Dad

Cousin Grant, Claudia & Marco

U. Bob & A. Joanne

I was moved to tears viewing these and went through them several times. Thanks all of you for putting this together. I love you all and miss you all too. Terribly.

The story.

It's my Mom and Dad's 50th anniversary this year, October 15th. As we often do with family scattered about, we had planned to celebrate the occasion early, in the summer, when more of us could be together.

A date had been set with us in mind. The PA Pelletiers, who would be traveling to Winnipeg in August. August 22nd was in fact the date and family far and wide were notified.

My diagnosis and subsequent treatment put a big kink in the plans, which were on hold for awhile. In the meantime, my A. Marianne and her husband Jay had booked their travel from Vancouver, to be in Winnipeg for the party weekend.

Even though the big celebration was cancelled/postponed, they decided to stick with their plans and headed to the Peg as planned. So Linda decided to hold a smaller family gathering on the original day, before MA & Jay headed back to Vancouver.  Just Mom's side of the family, for now. So those family members who could make it, did.

Wish we could have too. But even from this faraway, we're feelin' the love.

Did I mention how much I love and miss you all?

 I do.

 And thanks again.

Chemo #3 is DONE!

A distant memory, and none too pleasant. Actually, the process itself isn't that bad, but that foggy, nauseous, hit by a truck feeling sucks.

(The only hair I have left, on Gab's beautiful poster!)

Truthfully, this time 'round, I felt surprisingly good on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. I thought it might be because I as soon as I woke, I raced downstairs to pop my Emend for the day. That's the anti-nausea medicine I take day of and the two days following.  I read that it is more effective if taken before the nausea actually strikes. But those two mornings I also felt a bit more clear headed than the previous cycles, and I don't think the Emend does that.

I'd like to attribute it to the extra TLC from my Mom and Dad -- what else could it be?!

Even felt good enough to hit DQ on Thursday for blizzards.

Blizzards all around and a regular banana split for Grandpa.

Banana split blizzard with vanilla ice cream for me. I could eat these, craved them actually, through the first half of my pregnancy with Gaby. I'm so glad Nick reminded me of this, cuz we've made the trip to DQ after every round of chemo, in those first few days when little else in the way of food holds any appeal for me. And they've always been both filling and yummy.

Me and my Daddy!

But man, or should I say woman, cannot live on Blizzards alone, so eventually, I revert to my second chemo food of choice, which I also ate for a short time during my second pregnancy and haven't eaten again since. Until now.

Hamburger Helper. Beef Noodle. Only. Can't even think about trying any other varieties. And of course a cucumber salad, which is just sliced cukes dressed in sour cream and white wine vinegar, seasoned salt and pepper. The cucumber salad I could eat anytime. The hamburger helper, not so much. As I said, haven't had it in almost 10 years and don't imagine eating again once chemo is done! We'll see.

The other indulgence I've allowed myself is bottled water. Chilled in the downstairs fridge. I usually do not drink bottled water. Our fridge filters water just fine and I fill up my cool Kal LoveLife water bottle, keeping it in the fridge full time. But with the altered taste of just about everything I put it my mouth, I realized that I had a better chance of drinking more water by going bottled. Even IT doesn't taste great the first 2 or 3 days after chemo, but for me, it's the best tasting liquid at that time.

A case of 32 is $4 at Sam's and I do recycle all of the bottles. I DO intend to revert back to my old ways once chemo is done. But for now, this is how I do it.

And that's also a Zofran on the tray, another anti-nausea medicine I supplement the Emend with. The Emend seems to be very effective, but doesn't last the day. And I only have it for Tue/Wed/Thur and find I need to deal with nausea longer than that.

Besides the added bonus of my Mom and Dad being here to cheer me and take care of us, there is always the kindness and generosity of friends and family.

Amy brought over these beautiful flowers from her garden, as well as some equally beautifully arranged herbs, some veggies and some eggs from her chickens. The veggieswere yummy grilled! I added some mushrooms and onions as well as the zucchini Kathy brought over from her garden a couple of weeks ago and we had them for dinner when I was able to enjoy them (Monday)

Julie left tea biscuits in the door. Something else I feel like eating.

Cards from near and far. Janine, Jackie at the golf course, A. Verna and Andrea and Don. A collection of headcoverings and hats from Mary Ellen. Beautiful and appreciated.

Emails, IM's, voice messages, you name it. I would love to take more time to answer all of these beautiful sentiments that come my way. Like Peg and Jennell, who left messages on my cell phone, which I'm VERY BAD at listening to. I just heard them YESTERDAY, and I think they were a week or two old! Sorry ladies. And Heidi, I'm sure you found the information you were looking for elsewhere, as I just heard your message yesterday too! Sorry.

I feel I'm truly on the home stretch now. In two weeks, I'll feel crappy again. But it will be the last time that chemo will make me feel that way. And I'm thinking, because it's the LAST time, maybe that will perk me up and get me through it. We'll see.

Day Before Round Three

In my mind, I try to get a lot done on this day, knowing that I'll be down and out for the next few days. I think the steroids help cuz I don't seem to get as tired as other days in this cycle. I guess that's why I have trouble sleeping on those days. I believe that's listed as a side effect. Along with heartburn, which, yeah, I get. But I haven't had the whirlies since the first time. Must have gotten used to that!

The day before and after chemo I'm required to take steroids, which are also administered the day of. I've been given lorazepam to help me sleep, which I confirmed is OK to take the night before chemo. Learned that the hard way, after getting no sleep the night before round 2. Round 1 also, but I attributed that to nerves. Turns out it was probably the roids.

So I'm sitting up in bed, watching the power slowing drain, waiting for the lorazepam to take effect, listening to Gaby breathing beside me, missing Marc some 7000 miles away in Tokyo, and so very thankful that my Mom and Dad travelled here to day to be with us during round 3.

Just as soon as it was confirmed that I would be undergoing chemo, they offered to come here, anytime, if we needed them. That's very comforting and reassuring. All of my life I've always been able to count on my parents and this is no different. Love you guys, so much!!

Their flight out of Winnipeg left late, so they missed their connection in Minneapolis. Instead of arriving here at 1:45, the flight they had to take was scheduled to arrive at 5:48. Now, it was early, which was a good thing. Normally, they take the train and I'm picking them up at Glenside at 4. Instead, it was 7:30. But they heerrreeeee -- that's all that matters. And they got to know that Twin Cities airport pretty well!!

Grandma and Grandpa travelled with one suitcase and a carry on. Good thing, cuz good ole Delta charged them $25 to check that bag.

If it wasn't for all of the goodies they bring whenever they visit, they could probably just get away with a carry on, or at least checking one bag and not having to deal with much of a carry on. Check this out!!

You cannot get Dad's Chocolate Chip Oatmeal cookies here. Nor can you get Caramilks. We've recently seen Aero Bars at Fresh Market but they cost a fortune. And you most certainly can't get Tenderloin Kube here. Nothing close! In Canada, or at least in Winnipeg, we call it kubasa, or kobassa, whether you're Ukrainian or not. It's known as kielbasa here, and I've yet to find anything that tastes as good as Tenderloin's. It's so lean and garlicky and yummy .Nothing like it! And because it's made of pork, and vacuum sealed, there's no problem bringing it across the border. Notice how we don't ask them to shop the duty free for us -- just chocolate and kube!

(Not pictured is a giant bag of dill pickle sun flower seeds for Gaby to share with Grandpa. They didn't waste any time getting their respective 'spitz' containers out and cracking a few dozen after dinner!)

Last but not least is my Mom's fruit cake. There have been countless jokes made about fruitcakes. Regifting, door stops, heard 'em all. But those people have never tasted my  Mom's light (white) fruit cake. Give me a cuppa tea, Earl Grey with milk and a touch of sugar, a couple of slices of Mom's fruit cake and I'm in heaven.

You might be wondering about the date on the cake. When she makes the cakes in early fall for Christmas, the recipe calls for rum to be poured over the baked loaves. She then puts them inside a crock in the basement and they sit, and moisten til Christmas. Can't taste the rum, but it must both add moisture and act as a preservative, because we often eat them into the following summer and they fine.

Me, I think I'll have some for breakfast. During chemo, if it appeals to you, you eat it. And fruit cake for breakfast appeals to me!

But what I'm looking forward to even more is sharing breakfast with my Mom and Dad, even if they're not on board with the fruit cake idea themselves. Did I mention how much I love you guys?! XO

Driver's License Renewal means a new Photo

My birthday is next week. Three days after chemo, which kinda sucks, but at least it's not the day of. But what that also means, every four years, is that I must renew my license in person and have a new photo taken.

I realized this when I received the paperwork in July, before I started chemo. I thought about it after round one. I was feeling good that second week and figured I should get it done, just in case I lost my hair. Remember, I wasn't really sure it was going to happen, and even if it did, I didn't know when. But I had thought it would be a good idea to renew my license that second week, the week of July 19th, just in case.

Trouble is, I didn't write it down on my list of things to do that week. I certainly would have had time, as Gaby was at Robbins Park every morning and there wasn't too much else planned. But the week passed, I still had my hair, and my license renewal was still pending.

That third week, exactly two weeks after my first chemo, the hair loss started. And as I mentioned in an earlier post, once it started, it came out fast. By the end of that week, when I again came across the renewal form, the week was too full to squeeze in a vist to the DMV. It was also the end of the month and it would have been busy. Really busy.

Mondays are our booked and busy days this summer, where I get Nick to his weekly allergy appointment and guitar lesson, as well as take care of food shopping and a couple of other weekly errands. It works well with the chemo schedule too, but didn't leave room that Monday before chemo round 2, to get that photo done.

Truthfully, by that time, there was little evidence of Annmarie's beautiful handiwork. The hair on the sides was still hanging on, but the hair on top thinned out quite fast over the weekend. Can you say male pattern baldness? I frightened and freaked out some people in my travels that day, wearing a regular baseball cap. Some didn't recognize me, some noticed the shorter hair and others seemed uncomfortable with the change.

I obviously wasn't visiting the DMV the week of round two. Last week I had decided that I would either visit or call, to see if I could postpone a new photo for several months. I had no idea what their policy was on head coverings and did no online research.

Well this week, Nary and I were trying to find a morning to get together for coffee. She mentioned she needed to get her license renewed. Now she's a September birthday, but since school starts again for her in just over a week, she wanted to get this taken care of before then.

Remember, I'm now dealing with some sort of conjunctivitis, so I'm unable to wear any sort of eye make up. Combine that with my new hairless look and it gives me a less than healthy, somewhat under the weather, appearance.

But that's not all. On Monday, when retrieving boxes from the front step, I imagined Roxi was approaching and swung around a bit too fast and off balance, to head her off. I caught a metal door stop type of device, with my nose, taking a chunk of skin and leaving an unsightly mark which is presently a lovely shade of navy with a hint of reddish purple.

I honestly feared it might be broken and iced it for a good while after. Gaby just shook her head, not quite getting how I had inflicted this upon myself. That made two of us. Of course my sister Linda wasn't surprised at all that my nose, of all things, got in the way.

So on Wednesday morning, I rushed back from mall walking, chose a fairly neutral scarf, made a futile attempt at eyeliner, and put some tinted clearasil on my nose, since I have no cover up. What a sight!

When we got to the DMV I took a number, to take my turn at asking the question about delaying the photo. Well it turns out that I could keep the scarf on, 'for medical reasons' and have the photo done that day. Trouble was, I hadn't paid for my renewal ahead of time, which would have meant I would have had the camera card in hand. Instead I had to take another number to wait for a different person to process my payment and prepare the camera card, then go back to that area to have the photo done.

I was a bit worried, since Nary's kids were at soccer camp that morning and we had to be done in time to pick them up. Now SHE had the camera card, and while I was asking my question, she was photographed and done.

We had to wait another 5 or 10 minutes before my number came up and I took my turn at the counter, cheque in hand, ready to pay. The woman processing the payment revealed that she was an 11 year cancer survivor, asked about where I was at in my treatment, and advised me to have a big party to celebrate the end of my treatments. Great advise, I'd say!

She also assured me I wouldn't have to take a third number to wait to have my photo done, but rather, would walk it over to someone who would make sure the photo could be done as is.

Well, the woman assigned to do the photograph, who appeared to be under cover of a wig, was in fact also celebrating the completion of chemotherapy for uterine cancer. She took her time, we exchanged stories, all the while going through the process of getting my new license. We agreed that this common experience we were in the midst of was enlightening. A good word that covers the education that comes with a cancer diagnosis. You learn about the process, you learn how very many people have and are going through the same thing, and you learn about how many skilled, caring and compassionate people work to get you through it. Enlightening, yes.

Now, she offered me a preview of the photo, as she did with my signature, before it was finalized. Not great. More like awful, but hey, it's a driver's license photo. My nose has a dark bruise and cut on one side, my eyes are void of make up and my head is covered with a scarf that I realized too late wasn't the best colour choice for this. A true DMV photo!

The woman who processed my payment, who suggested a party should be in my future, said that, while I didn't hear it from her, once my hair is back to a satisfactory length, I should come back in, pay the $12 fee and have the photo retaken. I just might do that.

In the meantime, I live with a classic DMV photo.

Nary's turned out much better than mine, but this is the best look you'll get of all of them.

With the holographs they use, I don't know how well it would scan, so even a scanned image might not reveal the true beauty that I could well have to live with for the next four years.