finally...

i'm getting a scan tomorrow...i should have results in 2 days...if i'm being honest, i don't know the outcome will be that great, but atleast i'll have proof instead of my doctor's "checklist of treatment for gals with cervical cancer without doing tests"...crossing legs, fingers, and toes...

p.s. i'm not bald...yet...although i make homer simpson look awesome...

p.s.s. chemo is dumb.

p.s.s.s. my entire family (blood and in law) is AMAZING.

p.s.s.s.s. i have the bestest friends in the world.

it never fails...

when i have been given the opportunity to speak in church, or to teach, or give any sort of lesson, it has always worked that this lesson has been more for me than for those i am teaching. i am conducting mutual tomorrow and i am working on the new value of virtue in personal progress by helping the girls create a Temple time capsule for when they are engaged. the instructions recommend including talks on marriage. let me share the eye opener i read tonight. as you can imagine, this roller coaster ride has no doubt put a strain on us. but i am grateful for the roses he brings me every single day.

Carol M. Sieverts, “My Husband Always Brings Me Roses,” Ensign, Apr 1988, 61
(But they’re rarely from the florist.)
Growing up as an incurable romantic, I was certain that when Prince Charming came along on his white charger, his arms would be filled with red roses. My tall, dark, and handsome prince would bow deeply, then shower me with the roses before sweeping me away on his trusty steed.
Indeed, I did find my prince. He was tall, dark, and handsome. But I should have recognized some flaws in my plan when his white charger turned out to be an Arabian bay mare. At first, I was so caught up in the excitement of love and marriage that I completely forgot the roses. Later, though, as daily routine dulled some of the excitement, I began to wonder about the armloads of roses I’d been expecting. Somehow, they kept eluding me.

True, at the births of our first three babies, thanks to some broad hints dropped throughout each pregnancy, he had remembered the roses—one dozen long-stemmed beauties each time. Then, with number four, his practical nature finally got the best of him, and he presented me with—a cactus! It was a big, beautiful cactus—but still I longed for roses.

Several completely flowerless years passed. Then, as I was about to resign myself to a life without roses, a wonderful thing happened. I began to see that roses are where you find them, and they don’t always have red velvet petals or long green stems. This prince of mine had been showering me with roses all along. I had just failed to notice.

One night, I was awakened by the sounds of a sick child in the room across the hall. I called to him, warning him to hurry to the bathroom. But down the hall, I could hear undeniably that he had not been successful. I hurried to his rescue and helped him bathe and change clothes. When I returned our child to bed, I found my prince on his hands and knees, scrubbing the hall carpet. It was only after we had finished cleaning the carpet and had returned to bed that I realized what a lovely rose my husband had just given me.

Since then, I have found roses everywhere. I love to jog, but my prince doesn’t share my enthusiasm. Still, he will take me miles out of his way to find a new route. Then he tends the children until I return home. It was also my nonathletic prince who gave me my beautiful new running suit.

I see his roses in everyday loyalty. He hauls my paraphernalia to every Relief Society meeting I conduct. I won’t say he has never complained, but there is always a goodnatured, lighthearted feeling in his teasing. This bouquet of support is one of lasting beauty.

When my father passed away, my prince again was there, with perhaps his finest rose. My mother was left with a big home and yard, as well as the everyday problems of living alone. My husband took responsibility for two households without a second’s hesitation. And he has done it in such a sensitive way that my mother feels his sincere love and is not uncomfortable or embarrassed by his care. Could any other rose have smelled as sweet?

When I was young, I foolishly prayed for a life filled with romance. But a wise Heavenly Father has blessed me with something far richer—a life filled with genuine love.

I thank my Heavenly Father, too, for giving me the maturity to recognize roses where I find them. Support, kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity may not be the kinds of roses I dreamed of as a romantic young girl, but as I discover and treasure each blossom, I become more grateful for this strong, kind, and gentle Prince Charming who showers me each day with roses.

my head keeps itching...

my head has been itching for a few days, but i think it's psychological. you know - like how when you find out someone you know has lice and then all of the sudden your head starts itching, too. no, i don't have lice, but i'm sure this itching is a sign that my hair is falling out even though i haven't even lost my normal amount of daily shower decoration (ladies, you know what i'm talking about).

but, because my head itches, i'm awake, alot. i blame it on the itching, but i'll partially blame it on my mind that is refusing to turn off. the second my head hits a pillow, no matter what time of day, my mind runs full speed. i can lay in a spot for hours and never even doze for a minute.

lately what has been keeping me up is myself. obviously my emotions are tied to the tail end of the car on this roller coaster ride and the emotions fluctuate with each dip and turn. but i find myself regretting how i'm going to bed each night. regretting each dirty look i've given, each negative word i've said, and each bad action i've done (which lately - have been a lot). i'm wondering why this possible death sentence hasn't given me a newfound passion for life. i won't regret things i've missed (although not seeing a live show at the bowery ballroom after eating a gray's papaya hot dog will be rough on the heart), regretting how i've treated people will be something i know that will eat at me until my last breathe.

i feel like i have some soul searching to do. because i don't want to be bald with no heart. because being bald would be bad enough. (obviously i have a heart, it just needs a trip to the wizard for some revamping).

so, here's to hoping i'll get some sleep tonight. and that my head will stop itching.

thank you for loving me even when i'm most unloveable.

day 1...

i was stubborn and did go in today without a portacath. so, i came home with an iv that they capped off but will be able to use for the next three days and then remove it. it doesn't hurt. i have some sort of webbing wrapped around it to keep it from getting wet or from having the boys pull on it. they haven't even noticed it yet. but i didn't have to have surgery, and i still have one hand free to hug my boys, and that's what i wanted to be able to do.

i'm not feeling any symptoms yet, other than being exhausted/tired. i could barely keep my eyes open by the end of the three hours. nurse said if i were going to feel symptoms they would start by the weekend. so, i'm still crossing my fingers that i have already survived my worse. hair should be gone in the next few weeks, but if losing my hair is the most that happens, you really won't hear me complaining (i may just cry a little bit).

so that's that in a nutshell. shauna took me today which gave me time for great laughs and great conversation. everyone in there is always so reverent and quiet. i hope we don't cause too much of a raucous. anyone wanna join the party tomorrow?! the bus leaves at 930...and because i've got a line in, the appointment should only be an hour. i can't guarantee the trip will be traffic free, but i can guarantee some laughs and possibly some taco bell on the way home...awesomeness if you ask me.

c-day...

my start date is september 21. (c-day = chemo day)

i am trying to cram as much as i can in the next two weeks because statistics show i shouldn't be too sick from this round of chemo (meaning, other people don't get sick from this but i will be violently ill from this as previous experiences have shown).

approximately three weeks after september 21 (eta october 12) i should be bald.

anyone who would like to sympathy shave with me - i'm not being proud - i am taking you up on your offers.

to those of you that don't - well - poo on you.

it's not brave if you're not scared...

i *think* my last day of radiation was july 31.  i was supposed to make an appointment the following week with my oncologist so he could evaluate my chemoradiation treatment and put an order in for my scans.  

i waited.

and i waited.

i finally made the appointment for august 19.

yes, i know this is a long time from when my radiation ended.  yes, i know it wasn't the best thing to do.  but, i did it.  and i will defend my decision.  because in those weeks we went to the fair.  we went to the pool.  we had barbecues.  we had the beach in the day and bonfires in the night. we had playdates.  we just got to "be."  and i won't regret that.  the last week of my radiation bobby came and sat in bed with me as he often did and said, "so, how long are you gonna be in this bed anyways?"  i owed it to my boys - all four of them - to be out of that bed.  as i know it is more important for me to be here with them for as long as i can be, and to fight this disease with everything i have, i refuse for them to only remember me sick.  and if it means taking a few weeks off in between treatments to erase the prior months (or atleast try to), i will do it.  and it will always be worth it.  (plus, a few weeks off brought *some* sanity back, which i'm sure they all appreciate.  i know i do.)  

so, i made my appointment a little later than expected, but figured because it was for scans, it wouldn't really be that big of a deal.

my appointment did not go as planned.

i expected one of those visits that you pay the $20.00 copay just to be told to make another appointment and get asked a bunch of questions.  i took the kids with me as bob was out of town, but figured if anything it would make the appointment go faster because the boys would get rowdy and they'd want us to leave.  instead, i walked in with the lot of children.  the staff oooed and awed over my gorgeous looking guys (can you blame them?), and they directed me back to an exam room.  exam?  couldn't we just meet in his office?  my doctor met me in the hall and walked us in and said, "i'm going to be doing an exam."  huh?  what?  seriously?  i have my kids?  he didn't seem to care.  i turned the boys to the wall and gave bobby his gameboy...and well, i'm sure the ladies know the rest.  figuring there could be nothing else to ruin my day...

he wanted me to start chemo the next week.  and he wanted to schedule a surgery to insert a portacath.  the chemo he would like to administer has to be done over six months.  it would be given three times a week for one week, then off for three, and again three times in one week and again off for three - for six cycles.  i will lose my hair.  i will be sick.  i will need to drink lots of fluid as this chemo also attacks the kidneys.  i would not be getting any scans until after this chemo was finished.  my lymphnodes are still swollen from the radiation - and if he did a scan now, the results would be inaccurate.  he wouldn't know if they were swollen from the radiation or if it was because the cancer had returned.  so he will not be doing any scans for three months.  another three months to find out if i still have cancer.

i cried.

i told him i didn't want to do it.  and even if i did do it, i refused to get a portacath.  this did not go over well with his nurse who hated me every week i had to go in during chemoradiation and could never seem to find my veins.

but they agreed to let me do it without the portacath since i had so far, done everything they had asked.  i told them i would call them the next day after i talked it over with my husband.  

i haven't called them yet.  it's been 9 days.

i have this line from a movie stuck in my head - "it's not brave if you're not scared."  and i keep hearing it over and over again.  i don't feel brave.  but i do feel scared.  i don't have any other choice than to do what i'm told.  i have to trust that this doctor knows what he's doing.  i need to have faith that this will turn out how it's supposed to.  and i need to know that i am never alone.  

i emailed the doctor this week asking if i could delay treatment - wait for scans - basically kicked and screamed to not have to do this next round of treatment.  

here is his response:

In the long run (and from an "emotional" standpoint) it would be best to aggressively treat your cancer.  It does make a potential difference if there is a delay in treatment.

Years from now, if you are cured, you will not really remember the emotional difficulty you are going through right now.....this is why it is so important that everything is done in just the right way and in just the right order.

Once you get into the chemotherapy you will probably find (like most patients) that it is not as big a deal as you might imagine it to be.

You've got some pretty great young boys and, believe me, I know what you are going through right now raising them (been there, done that).  I know you would do anything for them..........well, think of the treatment of your cancer as a job that you are doing for their future.

Karen and I and all of us on this end are going to get you through this.....

One final note.......please rethink trying to get through this without a portacath.....

i'll probably call the office next week.  i'll most likely start chemo the week after.  i don't like to be told what to do.  but i'll do what i'm told.  so i can travel the world with my husband when the kids are grown.  and so i can see my kids grow.  

but contrary to his belief,  i will NEVER forget the emotional difficulty this disease has caused - or the strain it has put on my family.   

and...

i won't get a portacath...

Round 1 - Done.

She made it!

After almost 6 weeks of daily radiation and 5 chemo treatments Jenny finished round 1. It was a very rough 6 weeks to say the least. I have put off updating the blog until this 1st round was over because there really was nothing to update as every day has been like Groundhogs day...exactly the same. Jenny spent the majority of time in bed only getting up for minor things and to go to her daily appointments. She would come home pretty much wiped and go back to bed. Over time she seemed to build up a slight tolerance to it but it never really got any better. Her level of strength and courage never ceases to amaze me. She is quite literally my hero and watching her battle through even just these last 6 weeks has been remarkable. Even on the worst days, she would get up and still go to her appointments. Sure she was vocal that she didn't want to go, but who would want to go in the first place. But she went.

My parents have pretty much lived here 4 to 5 days a week helping drive her to her appointments and take care of the kids. I don't think we would have made it through this period without them. They have been great. My mom literally did EVERYTHING while she was here. I wasn't sure about how I would feel having my mom wash my underwear again after so many years on my own but I got over it quick enough when one day it was all just washed. Didn't have much choice. In all seriousness though, my parents astound me with their level of dedication. There is no quit in them and they would be here every day without question for as long as I asked them to be. They define what family means and I appreciate them so much.

Any by the way, Jenny turned 30 during this time. Just thought I would throw that in here for fun.

So now the next step is an appointment with Jenny's Oncologist to see what he recommends next. He has told us before that she will more than likely have 6 months of straight chemo. So we are kind of expecting that but who knows what round 2 will include.

For now, the kids and I are LOVING having Mom back. Jenny is up and spending all day with the kids. You can tell they missed her even though they could go upstairs and see her everyday. And equally Jenny missed being with them. Our house is returning to normal for now although knowing what could lie ahead in terms of treatment looms over the house. Probably why Jenny has yet to call her doctor to schedule the follow up appointment...and I'm not pushing her that hard either. I didn't realize how much we all missed things being normal. It made me realize that at least I took for granted having things normal so now that its back we are going to take all we can get. Each day is a gift.